Fifty Shades: Unfinished Love
by PurpleAle
Summary: Two worlds collide when Christian and Ana meet for the first time, both with darkened pasts and hopes for a new future. One night changes everything, leaving their life together hanging precariously with unanswered questions. Will love be enough to withstand their loss, or will it mark the end? AU/OOC.
1. The Chase

**FIFTY SHADES: UNFINISHED LOVE**

**Author's Note:** This will be an AU/OOC Fifty Shades story. Elements will be taken from the series and the rest will be creative license. I haven't read the books in a while, so canon/fanon blur together, and if you find yourself thinking 'Ana/Christian wouldn't do/say that' while you're reading, here they can :). Christian is a little more open and attuned to his need to change if he wants _more_; Ana's bolder but has a few shades of her own.

**Background**: Ana and Kate have recently moved to Seattle after graduating from WSU. Their commencement ceremony is coming up, and Kate is set to do a special edition of the WSU newspaper for graduation.

**Disclaimer: **(standing disclaimer for the rest of the story) I do not own these characters or the series, they are merely borrowed. Enjoy!

* * *

**CHAPTER 1 – THE CHASE**

_She was the purest beauty, but not the common kind.  
She had a way about her that made you feel alive.  
And for a moment, we made the world stand still._

_- We Owned the Night (Lady Antebellum) -_

* * *

**(Christian's POV)**

Christian Grey did not have casual sex. Not once have I had a one-night stand, nor have I ever desired to have one. They were impulsive, irresponsible, and lacked control.

Without limits, contracts or agreements, it was too risky. Someone would take things too far, and someone would wind up hurt. And fuck it if that wound up being me.

But the moment I met Anastasia – _Ana_ – I knew I had to have her. My usual control had been shot to hell, and all I could think about was her. Her innocent big blue eyes, pink pouty lips, soft creamy skin, silky brown hair.

From the way she was dressed, I normally wouldn't have given a girl like her a second glance; it had been a bar popular with the younger crowd, so it was flooded with college students beginning their weekends. Elliot had been in the city working on a project, and had dragged me here; otherwise I never would have come on my own accord. But in typical Elliot fashion, he was now nowhere to be found leaving me to grumble and sulk on my own.

She was dressed as a typical campus co-ed: jeans and an ill-fitting campus t-shirt. There had been nothing too remarkable about her – the blonde girl she was also with was definitely more the type I would have taken a moment to admire – tall, slim, poised.

However, while glancing around the bar in utter boredom, I caught a glimpse of her doe-eyed expression feeling out of place surrounded by her peers. She looked like she wanted to be anywhere else but there, where she was surrounded by immature drunk goons pawing at her.

Her gaze had been scanning the bar much like my own, and in a peculiar moment as our gazes locked, I felt my entire body tense. I felt the wind knocked out of me, and then a sudden urge, a sudden _need,_ to get to know her. _All of her._ I was drawn to her like nothing I had ever felt before, and it was the most terrifying feeling in the world.

The blue of her eyes had been so crystal clear; so pure, so innocent.

Beguiling. Enchanting. Mesmerizing.

I watched her as the night progressed. It appeared she came with just the young blonde. The blonde flitted back and forth between the table and perusing the bar, however she seemed locked in place. That, or she was unwilling to leave and peruse herself.

A few _boys_ managed to stumble their way to her table throughout the night; however she seemed to turn them away, flustered yet annoyed at their intrusions. _Interesting, _I thought. I would have thought a young girl like her would have welcomed the unsolicited attention. At the very least, a few free drinks for the night.

After spending the better part of the night watching her, I finally stood up, shot back the rest of my drink, before ordering two glasses of wine and walking over to her table. Her acquaintance had just walked away with a burly looking man, both grinning mischievously at what I can only assume is going to be a quick fuck in the bathroom. _Classy. _I take this as my opening.

Approaching the table, I clear my throat and her head snaps towards me as if she _knew_ it would be me. She lets out a gasp, before her cheeks turn a delicious shade of pink. _Oh, what I would love to do to see that shade of pink all over her body. _

"May I?" I ask nonchalantly, setting the glass down and sliding it in front of her before taking a seat.

Too stunned to speak, she gives a quick nod of her head before glancing down at the glass. Shakily, she picks it up and I watch intently as her lips press against the glass. The cool clear liquid drips into her mouth and down her throat. I watch as she swallows, adjusting my pants discreetly before taking a seat. I didn't know if I should be concerned at how readily she accepted that drink without a second thought, or excited by her eagerness to appease me.

"M-my friend should be back shortly." She stammers, avoiding the intensity of my gaze. I use my best stare, hoping to make her combust on the spot. I want her like jelly in the palm of my hand.

However, with her finger, she traces the edge of her wine glass absentmindedly before glancing around the bar as if I'm not even there.

"Then perhaps I should keep you company until they return." Settling into my seat, I try to suppress my look of confusion at her imperviousness to me. My grin returns as her cheeks once again take on that delicious shade after she realizes I'm staying put.

"You don't have to. I'll be fine…not that you care…do you know Kate? Everyone seems to know Kate. That must be why you're here. Were you wanting to talk to her?" She's already reaching for her phone before she's finished, presumably to call Kate, but I reach over to stop her. Placing my hand over hers, there's a moment – an actual suspension of time – where it's only us. Two people alone in our own universe.

All I can see is her – an errant strand of her hair falling onto her face; her blue eyes peering shyly through thick full lashes; her lips slightly parted as if she was struggling to breath. Immediately I crave her, in a horrendously impulsive way before I can realize what I'm thinking. And before I can stop myself, I'm leaning over and earnestly pressing my lips against her soft, pouty ones.

A timid whimper escapes her lips before she begins to reciprocate. Her kiss is shy and gentle; mine is firm and wanton. It was a perfectly _normal_ moment in time – just a boy and a girl sharing a kiss – before the loud shrill of a voice came screeching into our haven.

"Oh. My. God. Ana you slut!" The voice screams, before the clacking of heels approaches the table.

Flushed, and this time a crimson red marring her beautiful face, she places her hands on my shoulders and pushes just hard enough to put some space between us. I'm surprised by my own reaction – unlike my usual violent reaction to any sort of touch near my forbidden zone, I feel a sensation I'm not quite sure how to identify. It was uncomfortable, though not painful like I would have expected it to be. It didn't burn or make my skin crawl. It was just…_not nice_.

The few times over the course of my life that someone had touched me – a fight, or a push in a crowded area – I had been filled with a blind rage that left me seeing red and unable to control my temper. But with her, this strange and innocent creature, her tiny hands on me did nothing to infuriate me; instead, I found myself wanting her to do it again. _Wanting her to touch me_.

"Who's this? You're such a skank!" The girl continues to stumble over her words, the burly man she left with earlier no longer at her side. As she turns to me, her eyes immediately go wide and I flinch at the recognition in her face. "Oh. My. God. Christian Grey!" Her squeal attracts the attention of the nearby tables fleetingly, before they return to their own drunken stupors. "I'm Katherine Kavanaugh. I'm interviewing you on Monday for the WSU paper!" She gushes, eagerly reaching over to shake my hand. Classes were already out for the semester, but as a favor to a business associate I had agreed to do a special graduation edition of the WSU newspaper as a prelude since I would be commencing their degrees next week.

Clearing my throat I shake her hand back mindful of my manners, despite wanting to get rid of this distraction and back to the delectable girl furtively trying to evade my gaze. All I can think about is continuing that kiss, before leading her back to my place and doing all kinds of things that would have her blushing for a week.

"This is _so_ crazy that we would run into you! What a small world!" Slinging her arm around her friend, Kate continues to yammer on, her words slurred and loud. "This is my roommate, Anastasia." She mocks as the girl winces at the formality of her name.

"It's Ana." She replies meekly.

"Yes, Ana, my roommate. She is the biggest party-pooper in the _fucking_ _universe_. We've just moved here to Seattle, and all she wants to do is go home and be her same boring self!" She sneers, though Ana merely shrugs her shoulders.

"Kate, maybe we should go home." Ana begins, starting to gather up their coats and purses. "Sorry for her, she's had too much to drink." Slipping off her stool, she wraps her arm around her friend as they begin to head for the door.

"I'm fine, god Ana! Lighten up, let go!" She pulls her arm roughly, causing Ana to stumble backwards. I'm quick to catch her, just in time before she goes crashing into a group of boys standing nearby watching with amusement in hopes for some girl-on-girl action. _Back off fuckers. _"Maybe if you got _some_, you wouldn't be so fucking wound up! You could sleep with the guy…oh god what was his name…anyways the guy I was with earlier. He was alright." She shrugs before bursting into a fit of giggles. "He wasn't great, but got the job done." She howls as Ana stands there mortified.

"She's not usually like this." Ana mumbles, glaring vehemently at her friend. "Only when she's drunk, or being a total _bitch._" She hisses, her patience quickly waning. "Please, ignore tonight. She really is great at what she does, and I'd hate for this dire moment to ruin her interview on Monday."

"_Dire_?"

"Yes. It means 'awful' or 'dreadful'." She explains, waving her hand.

"I'm aware of its meaning." I muse, before her eyes widen as she risks a quick glance towards me.

"Sorry, I wasn't implying you were dumb or anything. I don't think you're dumb; otherwise you wouldn't be some rich hotshot. You have your own company for Pete's sake. It's just sometimes I use words and people don't seem to understand, so I always have to explain myself, it's because I read so many books…oh gosh…shut up, Ana." She grumbles, cheeks reddened, this time tugging harder on her friend's arm to get out the door. "We really should be going; it was nice meeting you Mr. Grey."

"Please, call me Christian." I say beginning to reach for her arm. I'm momentarily surprised by what I just said. I never let anyone call me by my first name. "And please, stay."

"Yeah, _stay_, Ana." Her friend mimicks. "I'm not ready to go home, if you want to you can but I'm staying!" She pouts dramatically, before turning around and immediately garnering the attention of a group of eager boys all too willing to talk with her. "Don't wait up, _Anastasia, _have fun being…_you_." She smirks with amusement as the group chuckle in response.

Furiously turning on her heel, her face flaming with humiliation, she storms out of the bar without a second glance back.

"Wait!" I call down the semi-noisy street, party-goers darting in and out of bars.

She must think I'm talking to someone else, because she continues walking. _How dare you ignore me._

It only takes a few long strides before I'm behind her and gently tugging on her arm to get her to stop.

"Wait." I say once more though my voice isn't as loud – _or frantic_ – as before. "Anastasia." I breathe, her name rolling sweetly off my tongue, relieved as I take a moment to catch my breath.

"It's Ana." She huffs in annoyance, before remembering her manners. "Sorry, just nobody calls me by my full name. It's too long and-"

"Beautiful. A beautiful name, for a beautiful girl."

Her cheeks flame a deep red at the comment, and I wonder if she always reacts so strongly to compliments. _Are you this responsive to everything? _Surely a girl as stunning as her was used to hearing words praising her beauty.

"It was nice meeting you, but I should really be going home. It's getting late. I should just call a cab…oh gosh I don't have any cash." She sulks out loud. "Do cabs take credit cards? I've never really taken a cab before, at least not by myself…I've been living on my own for four years, you'd think I'd know something like this. I just never go out, and Seattle's so new and different." She continues to ramble, though the lack of eye contact has me wondering if she is talking to me at all or merely stating her thoughts. "Maybe I'll walk, how far away is it from here to-"

"Let me take you home." I interject quickly, finding it ridiculous that a girl like her would even consider walking home alone at such a late hour. Not only was it dangerous, it was completely unnecessary since Taylor was already waiting at the curb. "I have a car and driver waiting; it won't be a problem at all."

Warily, she raises an eyebrow at me. "No offense, but the likelihood of me getting in a car with you – whom I've known maybe all of 5 seconds – is pretty slim. I might as well take my chances and walk home."

"Don't be absurd. Your friend is interviewing me on Monday. Do you really think she would be interviewing me if I was some crazed lunatic? Trust me, I'll make sure you get home safely."

Rolling her eyes, I realize how frustrating – and a _turn on_ – it is to see such blatant disregard. _No one_ ever dared such a thing with me knowing who I was or the power I wielded. _In everything_. I was far too respected, yet here this shy and timid college co-ed has the gall to do just that, and it makes my dick twitch with excitement.

"I'll be perfectly fine Christian. Good night." Rounding the corner, she tosses her hair over her shoulder before crossing the street. The way my name rolls off her tongue makes me suppress a groan of appreciation. I like hearing my name from her lips very much.

I follow behind, baffled by this woman – even more so by my _need_ to follow her. I am Christian Grey CEO, and I always have an abundance of admirers willing to _literally bow down_ to my every whim. My status – power, wealth, and good looks has garnered me quite the reputation as being one of Seattle's most eligible. I've always rounded out the top lists for successful bachelors in the country. But here in now, in nowhere college town, I was chasing after a normal girl who seemed immune to me entirely. She couldn't care less who I was or what I looked like; it was just another Friday night where some guy tried to hit on her and she immediately dismissed him. Like this was common for her.

After a few blocks, she finally whirls around with a scowl on her face. "If you're going to kill me, I should let you know that my father is ex-army and there's a greater chance that I would kill you before you had the chance." The seriousness and annoyance in her voice is adorable; I can't help the grin spreading across my face at this beautiful girl challenging me to a death match. We stand at an impasse – her scowling and trying to appear intimidating; and me unable to control a smile – a facial expression I rarely wore.

"I'll be sure to remember that Ana. But I assure you, I have no intention of killing you. I just want to ensure you arrive home without incident."

Sighing with derision, she waves me along before clomping down the street. "Well you might as well walk beside me then so it's not so creepy. People might think you're following me home."

Satisfied, I fall in step next to her as we walk in silence. It's a few more blocks before we finally arrive at her apartment complex, a red brick stone building in a decent neighborhood. Twiddling her keys in her hands, she risks a glance towards me wondering what's next.

"Well, I guess this is it. Thank you for walking with me, though you didn't have to. Please, give Kate a chance on Monday; I'm sure she'll be mortified in the morning when she realizes what a hot mess she was in front of you. Especially after spending months trying to get that interview."

"Ah yes, Miss Kavanaugh. Quite the tenacious girl she is."

"Kate is pretty good at getting what she wants." She shrugs nonchalantly. "Anyways..." And without an awkward attempt at a handshake or anything, she merely turns around, unlocks the door and disappears inside the building.

Though I'm certainly a stranger to the dating scene, a complete novice at that, I know enough that there usually was a moment at the end of the night where there was the potential for a goodnight kiss or an exchange of numbers. Instead, as unpredictable as this entire night has been and the enigma that is Anastasia, she had simply walked away without as much as a second thought. Like I had done her a service by accompanying her, and I was now dismissed. All those stupid girly movies Mia had made me watch with her growing up now seem like a complete sham.

Shaking my head in confusion, I turn around knowing Taylor had been tailing us in the SUV. I'm sure Taylor is just as confused as he watched me walking around leisurely, let alone chasing after this girl like a love-sick teenager.

Christian Grey did not pine after girls, nor follow them around like a puppy dog. I was a billionaire for fuck's sake, and shouldn't be wasting my time on these menial endeavors. Shaking my head once more to clear the fogginess that was clouding my judgement, I slipped into the car and barked at Taylor to take me home.

This night needed to be over.


	2. The Morning After

**CHAPTER 2 – THE MORNING AFTER**

_So I put my faith in something unknown,  
I'm living on such sweet nothing.  
But I'm tired of hope with nothing to hold,  
I'm living on such sweet nothing.  
And it's hard to learn, and it's hard to love,  
when you're giving me such sweet nothing._

_- Sweet Nothing (Calvin Harris ft. Florence Welch) -_

* * *

**(Ana's POV)**

I lean against the door, frowning as I replay what just happened. Had that gorgeous man really just walked me home? Even more surprising, had I just left him standing there without so much as a goodbye?

_Of course you did,_ my inner self smirks in disdain. Yes, that does sound like something I would do. _Idiot! _

I kick off my shoes and grab a bottle of water before heading to my room. Slipping into a pair of cotton boxer shorts and an oversized shirt, I climb into the comforts of my bed.

Christian Grey.

That was the name of the guy who had come up to me at the bar. The fact the I can even place myself in that sentence that includes both 'guy' and 'bar' is laughable, yet, it was somehow true. I wasn't familiar with who he was, unlike Kate, but I know she's mentioned his before. She had spent weeks trying to get an interview with him once it became known he would be conferring the degrees at this year's WSU graduation ceremony. Despite her dad's company Kavanaugh Media having done some press work for Christian and his company in the past, Kate was determined to get the interview on her own. In typical Kate-fashion, she had put her charming ways to work and eventually Christian's camp relented. Her interview with him would be the crème de la crème of her college career; the fact that she was able to get one with him, a notoriously private person, would hopefully garner her credibility as she starts to make a name for herself in the world of journalism.

Other than knowing he was a prominent businessman, and that he'd be handing out our degrees in a few days, I really didn't know anything about him. Yet, even though he was completely unknown to me, I couldn't get him out of my head. _The steel grey of his eyes; the softness of his lips…_

I have been on a few 'sort of' dates in the past, but my inability to believe that anyone could possibly be interested in me left me a recluse during most of college. I didn't mind, I was adamant on keeping my head down and buried in books, focused on my studies. It had paid off as I finished with a 4.0 GPA, but at what cost? I definitely had more than a few moments of self-loathing where I wished I could have been more like Kate – confident, interesting, and not at all like my awkward self so I could have met someone nice. Not that Kate had had a serious relationship during the four years we've lived together; she's more of a serial dater, but at least she didn't spend every night alone. Despite that, sometimes I just wished…I could be Kate.

Kate. I can't help but shake my head. I love her, she's been my absolute lifeline these past few years, but I can't help the times I feel jealous or anger towards her. She is the epitome of perfection: tall, blond, beautiful, wealthy, and smart to boot. Even though she's always insisted I am a 'total babe' and could get any guy I wanted, I always feel like the ugly step-sister next to her. I'm plain, boring, and ordinary. It's no wonder I've gone all through college with my virginity intact.

Regardless, I wouldn't have survived college without her. She has been there for me through all the ups and downs of moving away from home, the late-night cram sessions, tearful meltdowns, stressful finals, and weekend benders of doing nothing but watching bad TV and eating our weight in junk food. So for all my jealousy towards her, I couldn't have asked for a better best friend or sister. Even on nights like tonight, which is rare that I even go out, I could never stay mad at Kate for being Kate.

***_I'm home. Get home safe, you owe me for being such a bitch. – A_* **

**_*Done. I'll be home soon. Xoxo. – K*_**

I can't help but smile. It's become our thing that whenever either of us decides to be a bad friend, we go overboard in trying to make it up to each other the next day. Kate's word is as good as gold, so I look forward to seeing how she'll make it up to me.

Just before drifting off to sleep, images of the handsome Christian Grey flutter about in my head once more. I can't make any sense of our…meeting? Run in? I don't even know what to call it. One minute I'm sitting at the bar counting down the seconds before going home, and the next he's offering me a drink and kissing me.

We hadn't spoken much at all, and all I knew at the end of the night was his name, and that he had wanted to make sure I got home safe. _But why?_ I could sort of understand if he had tried something, but it was all for nothing. He didn't try to kiss me again or come inside. Had he really just wanted to make sure I didn't end up mugged on the street?

_Stop it!_ I grumble to myself. There was no use in overthinking this. We had spoken for maybe all of five minutes, and there is no way a boy – _a man_ – like Christian Grey would ever be interested in someone as average as myself. I'll never know why he felt the need to walk me home, but he did, and it's over now.

_But that kiss…_

_No!_ With one last sigh I try to push him out of my head, before falling into a fitful sleep where I'm all alone once more.

* * *

"Rise and shine sleepyhead!" The unmistakeable cheery trill of Kate Kavanaugh's voice rings through my room with the curtains pulled back and the room flooding with sunlight. "I've got breakfast with a side of apology!" She chirps sitting on my bed, nudging at my legs to make room for her.

Groaning, I pull the pillow over my head to block out the light and voices. I hate mornings; the only thing I hated more was cheerful people in the mornings. Kate was one of those people.

"Ana Steele, wake up!" Kate admonishes, shaking me awake. "You know I won't leave, so you might as well eat your breakfast while it's still warm."

Grumbling a few choice words for her, I am met by her bright smile, and a breakfast sandwich outstretched in her hand from my favorite deli. In the other, is a paper cup with my favorite tea made just the way I like it. I smile knowing she must have gone across town to get these; the sandwich at least.

"I'm sorry for being a wretched friend last night. I was a total bitch and flake." She pouts as I take the peace offering. "Forgiven?"

"Forgiven." Of course, I could never be mad at her for long. Satisfied, she lets out a sigh of relief before devouring her own breakfast. It's only then that I realize Kate's still dressed in the clothes from the bar last night.

"Did you just get home?" I ask in between bites, wiping ay my face with a napkin. Grinning, Kate nods her head.

"Who were you with all night?" I try not to sound like her mother, but a part of me feels hurt that Kate had stayed out all night after saying she was on her way home. _Hurt or jealous? _That was hours ago. "And what happened with that guy?"

"I was just with that group of guys I was with when you left. They don't actually go to WSU or anything but are from out of town. They were a lot of fun; I wish you would have stayed."

"And what? Been ignored the whole night? No thank you." I state dully, earning an eye roll and exasperated sigh from Kate.

"That's not what would've happened." Kate begins, though we both know Kate gets incredibly flakey when she drinks. "And nothing happened with that guy. Well nothing more. He wasn't that good." She shrugs her shoulders. "You really need to keep a better eye on me. That was a situation that never should've happened. Blech." She shudders dramatically. "So now that you know about my night, what about _your_ night?" Her suggestive wriggling of eyebrows makes me groan in annoyance.

"You know nothing happened. I left."

"With _Christian Grey_!"

"He just walked me home that's all. Even though I told him not to."

"Are you crazy! You were _KISSING_ him when I found you guys! What the fuck was that about?" Kate shrieks in remembrance. "That man, who is quite possibly the hottest fucking man _ever_, offered to take you home and you said no? What is the matter with you?!"

"Kate, he was probably just being polite. He didn't want some mugger to attack me or something. Nothing happened."

Scoffing, Kate continues to stare at me in shock and mild annoyance. "And the kiss? So he just walked you home? Did you guys talk? What did he say? What happened when he dropped you off, did you invite him in?"

I rub at my temples at the flurry of questions bombarding me.

"No, we didn't talk. And no, I didn't invite him in." I shrug because there is nothing more to say. "He just walked me home, and that was the end of the night so I went inside. And it was just that one kiss at the bar."

Gaping at me, Kate lets out a forced breath through her nose.

"The fact that you didn't invite him inside and finally lose your virginity to the world's sexiest man tells me something is seriously wrong with you! I don't care if you had to tie him up and _make_ him have sex with you; the fact that Christian Grey offered to take you home and you did _nothing_ is appalling!"

Giggling at the ridiculousness that is Kate, I shake my head. "Even if I did tie him up, he would never have had sex with me! If anything, he would have had sex with _you_!"

Kate grins at the thought. "The things I would do to him…" She muses, before we both begin to giggle. "Oh, did he say anything about me? God, I was a drunken mess when I saw him at the bar wasn't I? What was he doing there anyways? It's a little low-brow for someone like him."

"Speaking of, I wanted to ask, what exactly does he do? You've talked about him but I realized last night I know nothing about him."

"Christian Grey is a self-made _billionaire_. With a 'b'. He's only a few years older than us, but he's the CEO of his own company that buys, rebuilds or sells struggling companies. He practically owns half of Seattle, as well as other companies around the world. Everything the man touches turns to gold. He's one of richest men in the country!"

I stare, dumbstruck that I had been in his presence. "Really?" He seemed so normal and _regular_, but at the same time commanded attention by his mere presence. I remember the way others were looking at him – men and women – at the bar, vying for his attention. He merely shrugged them off, nonchalantly dismissing them. _Except when he looked at me_. I somehow got his attention.

"Exactly! That's why I've wanted to get this interview so bad; he's one of the youngest billionaires and far beyond successful than most men will be in their entire life. He also does a lot of charity work – feeding the hungry, saving the world, that sort of thing. He's like the perfect man."

"No kidding." I mumble to myself.

"Now do you see why you should have bagged him while you had the chance? He's like impossible to get to – normally he's surrounded by his own security team and he doesn't hang with us common folk. He must really like you if he came up to you."

I stare at her blandly, because I've spent all night wondering the same thing – _why did he come up to me?_ And would he have actually done anything if I had showed the slightest interest? I really must learn not to be so rude to people.

* * *

After breakfast Kate finally crashes in her own room, out for the count. I steal her laptop and do some lighthearted research on Christian, though I find myself browsing the Google images section instead. _Damn, he really is the most beautiful person. _

There are pages and pages of him – professional photos for magazines and articles, at benefits or galas, or in the society pages. There is not one bad photo of him; and even more curious, no personal ones. All photos appear to be prearranged and planned; no scandalous pictures of him drunk or passed out at bars, stumbling out of hotel rooms, or brawling in the streets. Surely for someone as notorious as him should have some gossip written about him or some sleazy paparazzi shots floating about. _Interesting, could he be a saint as well?_

I later skim the links, though my mind is unable to focus for too long. Most of what's written concerns his businesses and all I take away from it are terms such as 'mergers' and 'acquisitions'. Sighing in defeat, _that man is like a ghost,_ I return the laptop to Kate's room where she is still sound asleep.

The rest of my day is spent actively trying not to think about him. _You don't know him. You didn't even talk to him! Stop! You're delusional if you think your five minutes with him meant anything. Get over it. _

Huffing in frustration at myself, I can't help but feel the tiniest chance that maybe I'm _not_ reading too much into this. _He_ had been the one to kiss me after all. _He_ was the one who had followed me outside. Regardless of intentions, _he_ was the one chasing after me…that had to count for something, right?

Kate finally wakes up in time for dinner, her long blond hair in perfect disarray as she stomps into the kitchen. Wearing nothing but a pair of boy-cut panties and a baggy hoodie, she still manages to look far better than I ever could.

"God, why do you let met drink so much? You need to be a better babysitter." She grumbles, sitting at the table with her head in her hands. "No more drinking for a while." She declares, though we both know that come next weekend Kate's going to be begging me to go out with her again. "Did you at least have fun? We've just moved here, we really should get to know what's around here."

I shrug my shoulders. She's right, but I'm not the type that likes going out. The loud music and the crowds just don't do it for me; I'd much rather be curled up in bed with a good book. I really am the oldest 22-year old in the world.

Setting down the salad and the stir fry I had made, Kate smiles in appreciation. For all the wealth and knowledge that Kate has, cooking is certainly not in her arsenal. She can command an entire room to look at her, appraise a fake handbag a mile away, or flirt her way out of any parking or speeding ticket, but when it comes to preparing anything even remotely edible she is at a complete loss. Hastily scooping the food into her mouth with barely a moment to breath, I just shake my head as I pick at my own food.

"What have you done all day?" Kate asks after most of her plate is finished, washing it down with a large gulp of water.

"Nothing." I shrug, which is partially true. My research only seemed to confuse me more; I was hoping I'd find out he was a womanizer, a criminal, or something that way I could stop thinking about him. But if anything, it only swayed him more in my favor.

He is just _too_ perfect.

* * *

**A/N:** Thank you for all the reviews/favorites/follows! Reviews are greatly appreciated!


	3. The Interview

**CHAPTER 3 – THE INTERVIEW**

_I can't stop wondering what it would feel like, to hold her all night.  
She's got that something, that sexy innocence, she must be heaven sent.  
There's a little bit of devil in her angel eyes.  
She's a little bit of heaven with a wild side._

_-Angel Eyes (Love and Theft)-_

* * *

**(CPOV)**

Drinking my third cup of coffee that morning, I huff in annoyance at my computer screen. I haven't been able to fall asleep since walking Ana home, and since then I've been trying to work to pass the time.

What was it about her that had me so captivated?

She was nothing more than a child. I didn't know her; we hadn't talked, and there wasn't anything really interesting about her. She wasn't the type to be on my radar – either professionally or personally. My tastes are singular and specific; other than hair color, there hadn't been anything remarkable about her.

_That's not true, Grey, _my inner self admonishes, _if there was nothing remarkable about her, why have you spent the entire night thinking about her?_

Leaning back in my chair and closing my eyes, I let a string of curses tumble from my mouth.

_Okay fine, she was beautiful. Not in an overt, obvious way; but she was definitely beautiful. Sexy, even. And she was shy, painfully so, and quiet. _

_She didn't seem to know nor care who you were or like the attention she was getting. She didn't expect anything from you, and turned you down when you offered. She didn't try to seduce you or kiss you. In fact, you probably annoyed her. _

_And she threatened to kill you. _

I smirk at the thought of her petite body being anything but threatening, before letting out a sigh.

_Snap out of it, Grey. She's too young; too innocent. You're too dangerous for her._

I knew my inner self was right. I_ was_ too dangerous_._ I was dark and complicated, and I would break an innocent girl like her. I couldn't do that – no matter how much of a monster I am. I have limits. And she was it.

I needed to get her off my mind. Perhaps it was time for a new submissive. It had been a few months since Leila; things had gotten out of control when she demanded a relationship and refused terminating our contract. I had been furious. Never had a sub acted so unprofessional, and I had half the mind to really let her have it, but I knew just how much she would have enjoyed that. Instead, I dismissed her and had Taylor escort her out with the threat of a restraining order if she ever got in contact with me again. It had been the first time a sub had reacted that way to ending our agreement, and I wondered how I hadn't noticed before that this was happening. Since Leila I've been a touch hesitant about taking on another sub and I questioned Elena's judgement. She should have known better than to set me up with someone so unstable.

However, now that Ana has blown through my life and given me far too much to think about than I would care to, I feel the need for control and the release I know I'll get from it. I'm too tense and too frustrated to think clearly. That must be what this is.

My entire adult life, and most of my teenage life, had been spent in the BDSM lifestyle. I didn't know any other lifestyle, and nothing about regular relationships appealed to me. In fact, I didn't _want_ a relationship; I didn't have the time or capacity to devote myself to another person. I was selfish and my time too precious to be wasted with trivial things such as dating. All I needed was a few rounds of rough, hard sex to clear my head.

Though the biggest reason of them all, as much as I tried to deny it, was my fears. Under this cloak of being a superb CEO billionaire, I am still that pathetic, broken, scared, hurt little boy that never knew how to love. I never knew how to accept it, let alone give it. That's why the hard lifestyle of BDSM suited me just fine and I was certain I would never want to change that. It was clear cut and dry, and I knew what to expect.

_But Ana…_

_No!_ I shook my head vehemently at the traitorous thought. I didn't know this girl. I didn't _want_ to know this girl. She was nothing. She wasn't a sub, therefore it needed to end there. No more thoughts about her innocent gaze. Her soft lips. Or the sweetness in her voice. Talking to her last night had been a mistake, a lapse in judgement, something that should've never happened, and _will_ never happen again.

Whatever kind of release I was looking for, I needed to ensure it was with a contracted sub who knew the rules and would obey me entirely. No smart mouth remarks, eye rolling, or refusing of me.

_Yes, a new sub. That's exactly what I need. _

* * *

**(CPOV – Monday Morning)**

After another day of scrutinizing the perplexing Anastasia, I vowed to be done with her. I had had my loathsome weekend, and it was now time to move on. I asked Elena to line up a few subs for me and hopefully come this weekend I would be able to choose one that suited my needs. I had too much pent up energy that I was sure I would snap. I needed someone to submit to me entirely, and the idea of having complete control over them began to sooth the ache I was feeling. _Yes, fucking the shit out of them will surely help with this mood I'm in._

My foul mood is only furthered by the reminder that I was meeting with Miss Kavanaugh this morning for that damn interview. How was I to get rid of any thoughts of the innocent Anastasia when her roommate was interviewing me, and the fact that I'd be seeing her later in the week at the graduation ceremony?

Perhaps I could ask Miss Kavanaugh about her. It's not like I was her employer or professor, so there would be no crossing of boundaries. I was merely a man interested in her roommate whom I met at a bar; that was perfectly acceptable was it not?

"Mr Grey, there is a Miss Steele here for Miss Kavanaugh. She is your 10:00am appointment, Sir."

_Steele? Who the fuck was Miss Steele?_

* * *

**(APOV – Earlier Monday Morning)**

"You can't be serious, Kate! There's no way I'm doing this! I'm sorry." I shake my head vehemently, eyes wide with panic.

"Ana you _have_ to! I've worked so hard for this interview, I can't just let it go. You know I would never ask you of something like this if it wasn't so important to me! If I could go, I would!"

Looking at Kate warily, I know she's right. Over the weekend Kate had come down with a terrible ailment – in addition to being a bad friend, it turned out the universe also decided to punish Kate by giving her the flu the morning of one of the biggest interviews of her college and future career in journalism. If there wasn't so much riding on this interview, I would have found it amusing Kate's bad fortune. Kate never had bad luck in anything – yet another thing I wished for myself that was Kate's.

"But it's _Christian Grey_! The guy I left on our doorstep without so much as a goodbye." I grumble, embarrassed by my lack of decorum. The least I could have done was give him a friendly handshake or a smile for his troubles. Instead, awkward as usual, I turned around and walked inside.

"Ana, the man came up to you in a bar! Of all the women, he wanted to talk to _you_. Fuck, you guys didn't even _talk_, you _made out_! And then he decided to walk you home in what were probably million dollar shoes. If anything, this couldn't be more perfect! I'd bet he'd love to see you again!"

Rolling my eyes, I cross my arms over my chest. "Now you're just lying. I'll do the damn interview, but only because it'd be a shame that your entire college career was for nothing. Nothing else. I don't care about Christian Grey, I don't even know him!"

"Oh Ana, thankyouthankyouthankyou! I owe you big time!"

With an irritated grumble, I walk into Kate's closet. "What am I supposed to wear? What do I ask? I don't even know how to interview someone."

"There's a really cute navy dress in there that you can have, it doesn't fit me anyways." Kate says pointing to the side of her closet. "You can also borrow the nude pumps in there, and I should also have a matching bag that should fit everything you need for the interview. If you shower quickly I can help you with your hair and makeup before you go."

Complaining petulantly, I grab the items before heading to my bathroom for a quick shower. Kate had woken me up at too early of an hour when she realized her crisis, and not being a morning person to begin with, then finding out I had to interview Christian Grey – a man who I would blatantly deny having thought about all weekend – had only compounded my sullen mood.

Once my hair was dry, I slipped into the dress and let out a tiny gasp of surprise. I never really cared for nice clothes; working at the hardware store gave me just enough money for the essentials, and designer clothes had definitely not been a priority for me. But seeing now, how the dress hugged my body perfectly giving me an actual shape, I was beginning to see the merit of spending a little extra money for nice things.

Admiring my new found figure in the mirror, I pushed up my breasts a little, and they peaked out seductively in the navy peplum dress that came up just above my knee, with a sweetheart neckline and cap short-sleeve. The dress was made of a thick stretchy forgiving fabric that clung to my body showing off my curves, which I had never paid much attention to. And I certainly never had the confidence to display them as brazenly like this dress did. The idea intimidated me, yet felt liberating at the same time.

Images of the handsome Christian Grey swim heatedly in my mind, and I try quench the lewdness of those thoughts immediately. This was an interview, not a date.

Walking back into Kate's room with the pumps slung over my fingertips, I'm helpless against the furious blush taking over my body as Kate's eyes widen in delight.

"Holy mother of all that is holy!" She gapes, clasping her hands in approval. "You are one hot babe, Ana Steele. The things I want to do to you right now!" She purrs mischievously, a wide smile on her face. "How many times do I have to tell you, you have a body to die for! You really ought to show it off more often!"

"God, Kate." I groan in embarrassment, though I appreciate the high-praise from someone like her. A sad part of me can't help but seek this sort of acceptance; I sure as hell can't seem to be able to do it for myself.

"I would bet all my money that Christian Grey asks you out after this interview. Well, if he can even get through the interview without tearing that dress off with his teeth!" She giggles, her excitement near enough to make anyone think Kate was miraculously cured.

I shoot her a skeptical look, my nerves switching to high alert. "I mean it, you're beautiful." She says sincerely, sensing my insecure mood shift. "Beautiful." She whispers kindly.

Helping to straighten my hair and teasing the top to give it some volume, she sets to work on my makeup once finished: foundation, mascara, a quick swoop of black eyeliner to the top and bottom lids, a light dusting of eye shadow, and a swipe of light pink lip gloss. I can barely recognize myself in the mirror. I still _looked_ like myself – my blue eyes too big for my face, and a few freckles unable to stay hidden under the foundation, but I looked, dare I say, _good_. I looked mature and professional. I grabbed a cream-colored blazer and rolled up the sleeves, and slipped on the nude pumps with a modest 3-inch heel, before grabbing Kate's car keys.

We both agreed it wouldn't look professional if I pulled up to interview in poor Wanda. As much as I loved that car, it had definitely seen better days. Hopefully after graduation and once I landed an internship or job, I could get a nicer car. And nicer clothes.

"Thank you so much for being the greatest friend in the world. You're going to do amazing!" Kate reassures me after running over some last minute pointers for the interview. With a quick hug, I'm out the door.

"You owe me big time!" I call over my shoulder before making my way to Kate's car.

* * *

It was a quick drive; Grey Enterprise Holdings was located in the heart of downtown, whereas our new apartment was just outside of it. We had moved to Seattle immediately after our finals, and I was grateful for Kate's parents who had found us one in a nice area. Pulling up to GEH, I let out a whistle at the size and grandeur of the building. It was sleek and modern, a towering beast in the Seattle skyline. The exterior was entirely made of glass, floor to ceiling windows, and I felt intimidated immediately at the opulence of such a place.

Nervously, I straightened out my dress, grabbed my bag, and slowly made my way inside careful to watch my footing. If I felt this intimidated outside, those same feelings were sure to increase the moment I stepped inside.

Glass frosted walls, granite desks, and a dark rich marble floor made the entire place look decadent. Leather seats, flat screen TVs mounted on the walls, and lush floral arrangements adorned the entry. There were plenty of people mulling about in smart suits and dresses, and I couldn't help but notice just how attractive everyone was. There was discrete but intimidating security, and perky receptionists as soon as I walked inside. Of course they would be beautiful, blonde, and perfect. For some reason, this bothers me. _Does he purposely only hire good-looking people?_

Hesitantly, I approach the front desk asking for directions. Apparently not just anyone can go up to the executive floor where Christian Grey's office is, so I'm led to a separate security area where they call ahead and a daunting looking man escorts me to a private elevator. He stays with me until we reach the 30th floor, where we are greeted by another blond receptionist. She whispers to another blonde, his assistant Andrea, who picks up her phone. After listening for a few seconds, I watch at how flustered the girl gets when she says it'll be me interviewing rather than Miss Kavanaugh. I assume he is not the type to take kindly to last minute changes, especially considering the ordeal it was to get here in the first place. With a tight smile, she stands up and walks me to his office, a beacon in itself of glass frosted walls ablaze with the GEH logo and a large dark wooden door with 'GREY' scrawled neatly and authoritatively across it.

As Andrea holds the door open for me, the moment I step foot in his office, I feel my knees tremble beneath me.

* * *

**(CPOV)**

I could hear the clatter of Miss Steele's heels as Andrea brought her to my office. Trying to hide my scowl knowing I'd have to endure at least an hour of mundane questioning with Miss Kavanaugh's replacement, I sit tall in my chair, ever the commanding CEO.

The moment I look up once the clicking of heels stops, I take in a sharp breath at the sight before me.

_Ana_.

My non-existent heart swoons with delight and desire at the welcomed sight.

"Anastasia _Steele?_" I verify, quickly standing up and making my way towards her. God, she's shaking like a leaf. "A pleasure to see you again."

Desperate to remain calm, I chance a glance at this delectable creature before me. She looks completely different from the girl I had met Friday night. Now, before me was all _woman_. She has a blazer draped over her arm, and is wearing a delightfully fitted navy dress that shows off the swell of her full breasts, shapely hips, and small waist. She looks mature and professional, seductive in her own way. _What I wouldn't give to have her laid out on my desk right now…_

"And you as well, Mr. Grey." She replies politely, her head downcast.

"Please, call me Christian."

Nodding her head, "Then please, call me Ana."

"Ana." I say affirmatively before gesturing for her to take a seat on the couch. I had planned on having Miss Steele sit across from me – the image of being behind a desk exuding power and authority; however now that I realize I'll be spending the next hour talking to Ana, I want to sit close to her and the two couches would be perfect. Anything to be closer to her.

"Not that I'm not happy to see you again," _seriously Grey?, _"but I thought Miss Kavanaugh would be interviewing me today."

"Yes, she was supposed to." She starts, fidgeting with her fingers, her head still down. "But she came down with the flu and was feeling quite ill this morning so she asked me to fill in for her. I hope that won't be a problem. She apologizes for the sudden change in plans."

"Well, please let Miss Kavanaugh know I send my regards. But I am delighted to see you again."

"Really?" This seems to garner her attention as she lifts her head for the first time since she came in.

Her eyes are deep and alluring – a bright blue that seems to draw me in and bear deep inside my soul. It's unnerving, but I can't look away. It's the first time I'm able to truly look at her, and she is simply stunning. Her makeup's minimal but highlights her best features – her big blue eyes and sweet pink lips. I note the adorable freckles on her nose – _had I noticed them the last time?_ I find myself wanting to kiss them, before shaking my head.

_No_. I didn't kiss freckles, or think about sweet lips. I was the type that fucked, _hard_, and took what I wanted when I wanted it. There was no affectionate or endearing glances; these sudden _thoughts_ erupting from me as I sit across from her are making my head spin and I feel my control slipping. I can't allow this to happen.

But it's as if she holds this special power over me, one she's not aware of which only makes it worse, and I'm more than willing do anything she asks of me. Readily, I would get down on my knees and await her commands should she wish. _Fuck._

"Shall we begin?" Her sweet voice breaks the trance I'm under, and I nod absentmindedly.

As the interview starts I can tell she's nervous. She peers anxiously at her questions, and almost mechanically asks each one, quickly jotting down my replies. She doesn't even bother to look up as she furiously tries to ensure she gets everything written down even though she's also recording.

Halfway through, I finally reach over and click the 'pause' button on the recorder. Incredulously, her head snaps up for the first time in 30 minutes and I see her stunning blue eyes once again.

"Relax." I say softly, my hand gently caressing hers. It isn't until she looks down when I realize what I am doing and immediately pull back my hand after mumbling an apology. Even more surprising was the surge of _something_ I felt run through my body at the touch of her. Did she feel it too? "Why don't we just talk, like a regular conversation? What would you like to know?" Reaching over once again, I hit the 'record' button much to her relief.

"Okay…well…you've achieved so much in such a short period of time. Being one of the richest men in the United States, and you're not even 30 yet, surely you've had to make some sacrifices. Family life, relationships…you must not have a whole lot of time, so I guess my question is how do you manage? How do you balance between work, home, family, or even personal relationships?"

I stare at her in amusement; that was the most she had spoken all interview. Probably the most since we have met. It was refreshing to see this side of her – relaxed, open, chatty. I quite like listening to her speak.

This was a typical question interviewers asked me, and it irritated me that it was usually due to laziness or poor research that they didn't already know the answer to this. I have given enough interviews – and most had all asked the same question, and in turn, all received the same answer. But sitting here across from Ana, I was more than willing to entertain the question and give her a better answer than my usual rote response of that it's none of their business so move onto the next question.

"Miss Steele," I start, "I've always been determined to succeed. From an early age, I was driven by the idea that I can better myself, and have done just that. Admittedly, working non-stop since starting my business and building my empire has taken my time these past few years as I establish my company, but my family has been nothing but supportive and understanding. I see them often and regularly, which is always a nice way to break up the week for me. As for my home and personal life, I'm a severely private person, and I intend on it remaining that way. People have a fascination with my life, and with that, I feel the need to protect those in it – family and close acquaintances. I don't care what the magazines or papers say regarding who is in my life – frankly it's none of their business. I am a businessman and philanthropist, and I'd much rather those efforts be recognized and focused on, rather than who I'm currently or not currently dating."

She stares back at me, her expression a mixture of annoyance and something else. "I wasn't trying to find out your dating status." She states rather petulantly. "And I can appreciate your need for privacy, and your reticence in divulging said type of information, however it was not my intent to get the latest gossip on your love life. I was merely querying about your time management."

I try to hide the smirk on my lips. No one would normally have the balls to stand up to me like that, yet, once again this innocent little girl has managed just that. "Thank you for your understanding; and I wasn't thinking that." I say softly, hoping to change the negative shift the interview has taken. She looks sullen and insulted, and that hadn't been my intent. "But perhaps after others read your interview, they'll think twice before asking me such questions."

Nodding her head in acceptance, she looks down at her notes. She continues on with her list of questions, before we somehow manage to wind up on a slew of different topics where we're no longer discussing me, Christian Grey CEO, or anything related to the WSU article. We're laughing and sharing anecdotes, the lilt in her voice too hard to resist. I would do whatever it took just to keep talking.

I watch with rapture as her lips move, her grin, the way her eyes light up when she laughs. It's not a shy timid laugh that I would have expected at the beginning of the interview, it's a hearty genuine laugh after I tell her a story about when I was first starting out in the business, and I had ordered 10,000 rolls of toilet paper after I put in the order. I figured anyone could put in an order for supplies, so I did it myself. I ended up having to use one of the conference rooms as a storage for months until we could figure out what to do with it all. Since then, I make sure whoever is ordering supplies double- and triple-checks orders before sending them off. Besides my ineptness and my incompetent staff, those days were trying to say the least. It's no wonder I run such a tight ship now, determined to avoid any such indiscretions given the size and growth of my company now. There is no room for error now.

"I think it's a good thing that you were able to mess up like that." She says once she's composed herself. "It shows that you're human. Everyone screws up." Her spirited voice says with amusement. She finds great humor in my misgivings and early day blunders during the time I was trying to establish myself. "It's just hard to rectify _that_ Christian Grey with the Christian Grey sitting here. It seems impossible that you two are one in the same. I don't doubt there's anything you're _not_ good at now."

I trace my finger over my bottom lip, trying to reign in my libido. _You have no idea the kinds of things I'm good at Miss Steele..._

We continue to talk, and I share a few more faux pas from the early days of GEH just because they really get her going. Her dulcet laugh is infectious and rings soothingly in my ears. I don't want this moment to end, so I try to think of more things to talk about. I've never been in this predicament before - _wanting_ to keep someone talking. I'm hopeless against this girl.

It's not until Andrea announces on my intercom that it's time for my 12:00pm lunch meeting.

_Shit. We've been talking for over 2 hours!_

* * *

**A/N:** Thank you for all the reviews/favorites/follows! Reviews are greatly appreciated!


	4. Office Tryst

**A_/_N: Note the M rating from this chapter forward :)**

* * *

**CHAPTER 4 – OFFICE TRYST**

_It's not just all physical_  
_I'm the type who will get oh so critical_  
_So let's make things physical_  
_I won't treat you like you're oh so typical_

_All you think of lately is getting underneath me_  
_All I'm dreaming lately is how to get you underneath me_  
_Here comes the heat before we meet a little bit closer_  
_Here comes the spark before the dark, come a little closer_

_-Closer (Tegan and Sara)-_

* * *

**(APOV)**

_2 hours! _

"I'm so sorry Christian! I hadn't realized the time." I scramble to my feet furiously trying to collect my belongings. Just as I had gathered everything, my portfolio falls and the papers I had been taking notes on go tumbling to the ground in a dramatic explosion. The white sheets scatter across the floor and my face turns red as I drop to my knees quickly to gather them. _Shit._ "Urgh, I'm so clumsy. I'm so sorry about all of this. I-"

I look up from beneath my lashes nervously and am met by this steamy gaze. His eyes are wide, a darkness there commanding my attention. I'm frozen on my knees with a handful of papers, a gasp breaking the silence. A distressing intensity forces my eyes and I am unable to look away despite the red heat stinging my cheeks. I have never felt so compelled to just stare; he is beautiful, dark, dangerous. Even if I wanted to, I'm fixated on him, daring him to look away first.

A lustful spark hits me at once; a feeling I'm not at all familiar with. All I want to do is cover his body with mine, allowing my hands to greedily touch every part of him claiming him as my own. I undress him with my eyes indulgently, imagining the ripples of his abs…hard pecks…my fingers clawing at his back…the way his skin would taste underneath my tongue…

He too seems frozen in place, unable to help me up off the floor. I find myself _liking_ this position – him towering over me, his eyes commanding that I dare not look away. It's exhilarating and sexy. Despite the power gap, I feel very much in control. He's unable to move because of _me_, and it makes me feel desirous. _Wanted._ As if I have the power to do whatever I please with his body.

That power has me rapturous and delirious, heady thoughts of doing ungodly things to him flooding my thoughts. A tremendous ache ripens my body. I'm drunk on hormones racing through me, and I'm desperate for a release. _A long, wicked, release_…

I'm a withering mess panting on my knees in front of him. My body aches for _skin-on-skin_ and I feel a warmth spike through my core and radiate down to my toes. If he can do this just by _looking_ at me, do I even want to know what else he's capable of?

* * *

**(CPOV)**

_Fuck. Fuck. Fuck._

There she is, the most beautiful woman I have ever met, bent on her knees in front of me. It was the classic position I had all my subs take in the playroom, and seeing her like this in my office after two hours in her presence has my control completely shattered.

_I want to fuck her, and I want to fuck her now._

I have never been the type for idle chit-chat. I simply don't care nor have the time for it, unless they're a possible business relationship in which the information would be useful. Furthermore, I dislike talking about myself even more; yet I find myself divulging that information willingly to Miss Steele.

I spoke about my family – Elliot's construction business, Mia traveling the world to expand her culinary skills. I shared that Grace is a pediatrician; Carrick a lawyer. I tell her I was adopted as were Elliot and Mia, but I stop there. She doesn't need to know any more than that. Stories about the early days of GEH had her laughter filling the room and I quite enjoyed it.

In turn I had learnt that she was an only child, bouncing around from home to home as her mother remarried several times. With no siblings and no real extended family she was very much alone growing up, always wishing for a brother or sister. Kate had become that sister after living together for four years. She was hoping to work for a publishing house after graduation reading manuscripts. I offered her a position at GEH in whichever department she wished; however not being a publishing house, she politely declined to even consider taking a position with me.

_Defiant little thing._

It had almost felt like a date – though I had no frame of reference never having actually been on one – but the conversation had flowed so easily once she relaxed. She was charming and adorable, shy yet bold. She bit her lip when she was nervous or deep in thought, and it drove me insane. How I wish to be the one biting that lip…_among other things._ And the way her eyelashes fluttered innocently when she looked up at me, her big blue eyes regarding me as if she could see straight through my darkness without a care. There is just something so pure and so refreshing about her that I find myself wanting more_. _

_More of this sweet, sweet girl._

Realizing I was still looking down at her – how apt, I thought the ever Dominant, I quickly bent down to lift her up. We're now standing too close to each other, the heat from her body and her breath on my cheeks too intoxicating. She already smells like sex, and I want that smell all over me. I want to feel her wet mouth on mine…her wet lips suctioned around me…her body clenching tightly for me to never let go… bloody screams as she cries my name from the top of her lungs…

A tiny whimper escapes her pouty lips as we stand there nearly touching and that's enough to force my lips to crush hers in a wanton confirmation of my desires. Gripping her petite frame, she lets out a loud breathy moan into my mouth which sets everything ablaze. My hands dig greedily into her creamy flesh, our mouths mash against each other as I refuse to let her breath anything but me. I've been too wound up since I first laid my eyes on this mysterious girl, and I'll be damned if I let this chance slip away again. I need to get her out of my system so I can move on with my life.

_Will it really be that easy? One fuck and you're done? _

Her lips are just as sweet as I remember; soft, lush and eager for attention. She kisses me back brazenly, her own desires clear. Tiny fingers tug at my hair, pulling me down towards her. I am lost in sea of heat and wet lips as our bodies slam against each other.

I want this girl more than anything I have ever wanted before.

* * *

**(APOV)**

I feel dazed and drunk when his lips finally release mine. I'm desperate for breath, but more than anything I want to continue _touching, feeling, tasting_ this sinful man before me.

_Kissing wasn't the only thing on my mind…_

I couldn't help but tremble at the look on his face when we finally broke free – hair disheveled, clothes wrinkled. There was a libidinous gleam to his eyes as he stared deep into my inner most thoughts, _knowing_ what I want from him. _Knowing_ what I've thought about all weekend.

_Yes, I want to have sex with this man. Right here. Right now. Raw, hard X-rated sex._

Feverishly shaking my head to rid myself of such errant thoughts, I take a few steps back to distance myself from the cloudy haze that surrounds me. I need to think, and I can't do it when the scent of his cologne and body wash lingers around me, pulling me back in.

Diverting my eyes to anywhere but his, I quickly, and this time more gracefully, gather my belongings and stand upright. My chest is still heaving with deep breaths, but I know I need to get out of here as soon as possible. It's getting more and more difficult to keep my clothes on around him, virginity intact. If I'm not careful, I just _know_ I'll end up naked on his desk and loving every minute of it.

"Thank you for the interview. It was nice seeing you again. Sorry again for taking so much of your time." I mumble as I reluctantly head towards the door.

"Ana." He breathes, reaching out for my hand. I stop walking as his fingers lace with mine pulling me back. I didn't want to leave in the first place.

I turn around and take an honest look into his eyes and see just how much he wants this. How much he wants _me_. He begs earnestly without words, and I come undone.

His strong firm hands cup my face and once again his lips are pressed possessively against mine. Only it isn't a heated frantic kiss. This time it's more of a slow-burn, an intimate kiss as he first kisses my top lip, then the bottom, before both his lips are on mine leaving me feeling more flushed and dizzy than the last. My heart pounds unrestrained in my chest, every inch of my body alight with a sweltering heat consuming me.

The crux between my legs aches, throbbing to its own beat while a distressing wetness soaks my panties. My nipples are taut firmly pressed against his chest as we continue to consume each other, the slightest of movements from our breathing creating a delicious friction that further ignites me. There's a building desperation, his silent plea for me not to go. I don't know how to describe it, but I know it's the same as to how I feel. I don't want to go either.

His hands slide down from my face, down my arms to my fingertips, before sliding back up my sides to caress the bottom of my breasts. I let out a pitiful moan as his thumbs brush against my painfully erect nipples, pushing my breasts harder into his grasp. I'm going to combust as he squeezes both nipples roughly, his tongue driving deeper into my mouth.

The silky warmth of his tongue drives me senseless and suddenly I find myself clawing at his clothes, mewling pathetically. He tastes of coffee and Christian. I can't describe it. There is too much separating our bodies and they needed to be removed _now._ My fingers clumsily work the buttons of his shirt as his hands reach down and begin to pull up the hem of my dress. I feel the chill of the cool air brush against my bare skin. I don't care, I'm too hot everywhere.

Capable hands grip my bottom, squeezing firmly that I can already feel his fingerprints imprinting on my skin. I hadn't been able to concentrate on removing his clothes as his shirt remained half-unbuttoned and half-untucked. It didn't matter, because the moment I felt his hand _there_, I nearly fainted.

"Fuck!" He growled, and for a moment I felt horrified and humiliated. He pulls away, my face still cupped in his hand. He looks at me with such hunger and craving, it has me melting at his fingertips. "Shit, you're so wet. I've never met anyone get so wet before from just kissing." He murmurs with a devilish glow to his smouldering grey eyes.

A deep blush covers my skin from head to toe, and I begin to take a few shaky steps back. I feel mortified and my lip begins to quiver.

He doesn't let me go; instead he pulls me closer until we're nose to nose. "Hey," he says gently, aware of the sudden change in my face. "You have _no idea_ how much it pleases me knowing you're this turned on." He purrs into my ear, pulling me flush against him, his mouth nipping my earlobe. "So fucking wet, just for me." He groans, and I feel my body arch towards him as he grinds his erection against me.

A gasp escapes as his thick cock presses against my stomach. I had no idea they could get so _big_. I grind my hips back, a delicious tremor tormenting my body as I feel his steely pole push between my legs. He's hard and I can feel him pulsing through his clothes.

"Fuck, the things I want to do to you right now." He whispers sinfully as he pushes aside the flimsy material of my thong, and a sole finger traces the outside of my folds. It glides easily as he dips it into my wetness, a long lush moan escaping his sexy lips.

"Then do them." I hear myself say, though I don't recognize the voice at all. It was raspy and breathy and dripping of sex. _And not me._

He starts to slide his finger inside of me before we both jump in surprise as his intercom goes off again and Andrea nervously reminds him about his 12:00pm meeting.

Panting, sweaty, and unable to properly think, I stand there with my dress pulled up, panties bunched and my breasts bouncing wildly as I try to regain my breath. He storms over to his intercom, his finger slamming down on the button.

"Cancel it!" He barks before turning it off. "No more interruptions."

He stalks towards me, hair flying every which way and clothes disarrayed before he grabs me and lifts me onto his desk. Before I can comprehend what he's doing he drops to his knees, peels off my panties tossing them across the room, and suddenly my legs are being ripped apart and my knees bent towards my chest. I shut my eyes in mortification at this new position that leaves nothing hidden,_ completely exposed_, and my hands brace myself on either side of me.

Unexpectedly his mouth is _there_ – licking and sucking me as if I was the tastiest thing he ever put in his mouth. He presses his tongue just to the side of the throbbing bundle of nerves, slowly lapping at the soft flesh. A guttural groan escapes me as I pull the back of my knees closer to my chest, opening myself, my head falling back on the desk. _God how could this feel so good?_

It's blissfully erotic as his silky soft tongue laps at my wet slit and I find my hands eager to relieve my pert nipples. The more I squeeze and rub, the more I want to explode. Draping my legs over his shoulders, he buries his face in me as he watches me play with my breasts, spurring him to suck harder and lick deeper until I'm staggering on the edge of my sanity. His entire mouth covers me, his tongue battling my clit. I'm overloaded on sensation as he explores my inner most private area and I'm quivering as I feel a buildup of adrenaline flood my veins.

A foreign tightening and spasming begins to tremor, and I sit up to grip his hair tightly as my knees tighten over his shoulders.

"Oh god, oh god, oh god…" I whimper hysterically, unable to make sense of what's happening. I'm dizzy and everything is throbbing from my head, my ears, my nipples, to the spot where Christian's tongue is soft and wet and rubbing me over and over. Sweat drips down my body dampening my dress, my fingers tightening on his head. I want him closer, yet I want to push him away. "I think I'm…I'm…I'm…oh god…ohhh…"

With one final thrust of his tongue and a gentle nip, I suddenly sense a white hot surge of heaven as I feel my body tense and constrict violently. A scream escapes my lips and his name lingers in the air as my entire body stiffens and jerks erratically, my desire dripping down in which he eagerly swallows. I'm trembling from the aftershocks leaving me a whimpering mess. My breathing staggers as I try to blink away the blinding spots flashing before me, and then I go limp on his desk, satiated.

There's a heavenly silence in the room as the thumping of my heart lets us both know how much I enjoyed that.

Standing up he trails soft kisses up my stomach and neck before placing a tender kiss on the tip of my nose that makes me feel…_cherished_. He lays his fully clothed body over mine, his forearms protecting us from the outside world, forehead to forehead.

We're both panting and I can smell my arousal on his lips, curious as to how he would taste if I kissed him. Despite what just happened though, I feel much too shy as I bite my lip and turn my head away.

"Amazing." He whispers nuzzling into my neck. "I've never seen any come like that before; it was fucking incredible I came myself." He confesses. He remains nonchalant, a little impressed even, though I feel the heat on his face as if he were blushing.

My inner self hugs herself with glee. Had I just made this god of a man _blush?_

Standing up to sit in his chair, he looks at me thoughtfully. Suddenly no longer under the haze of our…_whatever that was_, I'm overwhelmingly self-conscious in front of him. Quickly pulling my dress down and straightening my hair, I clear my throat, though no words come out. There's a lull in the room – neither one of us knowing what to say.

_Do I thank him? Do I return the favor? Should I just go? _

_At least remember to properly say goodbye this time..._

"Ana." His voice breaks into my rapid thoughts, forgetting that he was even staring at me.

"Yes?"

"Have dinner with me tonight."

It's a command, not a question. It turns me on. _Yes, I would do anything he asked me to_.

Nodding my head, I smile shyly at him. He had just given me my first orgasm; the least I could do was go to dinner with him.

"I'll pick you up at your place 7:00pm?"

Nodding again, he seems pleased with my answer.

"Okay, until then." He stands up, which in turn I follow though my legs still feel like jelly. "I can't wait." He groans in my ear, gently kissing my lips. I feel that same warm tingle flood my body and the faintest taste of my arousal on his lips.

"Until then." I say huskily, surprised once again as the breathy vixen makes herself known. Kissing him one last time, with just enough fervor that my tongue teasingly traces along his lips, I pull away. I feel a newfound confidence in myself as I head for the door, the lingering saltiness still on my lips.

The image of him standing there mouth gaping and eyes wide fills me with a wicked sense of satisfaction as I step into the elevator.

I feel sated in a way I had never felt before, but now I'm left craving more_._ I have never felt this want before, and I wonder if it is just physical, my body finally awakening. Or if there's the possibility of this becoming something more.

I hope so, as I manage to make my way back to the car in one piece still riding my post-orgasm high.

It's only then I realize my panties are lying somewhere on the 30th floor.

* * *

**A/N:** Thank you for all the reviews/favorites/follows! Reviews are greatly appreciated!


	5. Girl Talk

**CHAPTER 5 - GIRL TALK**

_Tonight's the night I'm breaking out of my shell  
Gonna put on my shoes I'm releasing myself  
Alright, it's that time  
I've been feeling like takin' a chance  
Been stuck inside, can't wait to get out and dance_

_-Paint My Name (All About Maggie)-_

* * *

**(APOV)**

"You did _WHAT_?" Kate's expression is a mixture of horror and fascination. "Virgin Mary – _you –_ let him do that to you, after what? An hour of talking? You just spread your legs for him and fucked him on his desk? Jesus Ana!"

"We didn't do _that_, Kate!" I defend, mortified the more we talk about it. I had picked up some lunch on my way back for Kate, working up the courage to discuss what had happened in Christian's office.

"That's worse!" She shrieks.

"Really?"

Kate giggles, shaking her head. "Worse for him." She smirks. Sitting back against her headboard, she ponders everything I just told her.

I told her everything – the interview, the conversation afterwards, to the papers all over the floor and him helping me up. Over the years I've heard about every one of her one-night stands in great detail, so it was only fair that she now heard mine. Plus, I was at a complete loss of what to do next. I had gone from celibate to popping my legs open after a little conversation and a kiss from a man I met at a _bar._

This absurd conversation turns into one of reminiscing over Kate's past escapades with tears pouring down our cheeks by the end of it. For all the beauty and status that Kate commands, she'll sleep with almost anyone. I remember when we first started college: she had definitely earned the reputation of being 'easy'. She was invited to all the parties because guys _knew_ she would put out. After that first year she seemed to get the 'girls gone wild' itch out of her system, and she decided to set the bar a bit higher for who could get into her panties. After that, and when people realized she wasn't an airhead despite her reputation, her choice in men matured. She grew tired of the frat boys leering at her, and set her standards to only date older men from then on. Kate could get any man she wanted – and she did. Often.

I'm struggling to breathe as we remember some of her less-than-stellar suitors. From jealous girlfriends finding out she slept with their boyfriends – some intentionally, some not – to guys who don't measure up or couldn't get it up because Kate intimidated them too much. I'm dying of laughter, clutching my sides as I try to catch my breath.

"Just be glad your first time is going to be nothing like mine. It was in the parking lot of a fucking mini-mall against a tree. I was so stupid; and that boy was such an idiot. It lasted all of thirty seconds and he came all over me like an adolescent and that was it. I remember I was so angry at him because he finished and I thought that was it. I didn't finish, but I didn't know that I was supposed to. I felt so cheated – I couldn't believe this is what people did. It sucked."

I've heard this story a ton of times before, but I'm thankful to hear it now. Its helps dispel the nerves because I just _know_ Christian is going to be good at sex. If he can do _that_ with his mouth, I'm nervous to think what he can do with the rest of his body.

"Who would have thought your clumsiness would be the trigger to get you to drop your panties." She snickers heartily. "He probably thought you were going to blow him when you were on your knees." She cackles, unable to stop laughing.

I'm embarrassed and annoyed. We've gone from Kate's misgivings to my inability to keep my legs closed and I can't help the slight irritation I feel. But more than anything I know she's right. _What was I thinking?_

As the conversation steers back to me, I remember his invitation. "There's this other thing…" I start nervously. "He asked me to dinner tonight."

"Dinner?"

I nod my head. "Is that weird? I mean…he just…_you know_…and now he wants dinner? I feel like I should pay him back…return the favor…do you think that's why he asked me?" My face is its classic crimson red, unbelieving that we were having this conversation.

Never did I think I'd be asking Kate whether or not it was appropriate to give someone a blowjob as a thank you.

Kate shakes her head. "No, if he wanted you to go down on him, why wait? That's just stupid and would take unbelievable amounts of control. He clearly doesn't have much control if he couldn't even wait to take you to dinner before dropping to his knees."

Smiling to myself, I wonder if perhaps there could be a chance of more than just sex with Christian. Kate was right – if it had been a one-time deal, why not do it there in his office? We were both seconds away from tearing each other apart as it was.

_Unless he didn't want it to go any further... _

_…_but that didn't make any sense either.

It couldn't have just been about sex if he was still wanting to see me _after_ he did what he did. Dinner is intimate and personal; a time to get to know a person. The glimmer I got into who he was as a person had me interested, and I wanted to know him better. Maybe he wants to get to know me too?

I have never felt so at ease with a man before, other than my dad, Ethan or Jose, both of whom I have been friends with as long as I have been with Kate. Perhaps tonight would go just as well – he had a way of putting me at ease. And I did feel at ease talking to him, despite his demanding presence. Yes, he was intimidating, but he didn't intimidate_ me_.

I already knew that he was successful and motivated. He was young, handsome, and fit which was obvious by his panty-dropping physique. He came from a big family; bigger than mine at least, and comes from a good home with good parents. He was adopted, and I found myself wanting to know more of that story but he immediately skipped over it. He dropped out of Harvard before starting up his own company, and the rest was history. A self-made billionaire, and for some unknown reason, this man was interested in me and I _wanted_ him to be. It was a startling revelation considering I had just gone four years of college without a spark of interest in anyone, and suddenly, I literally couldn't control myself around Christian.

Was this how regular girls felt? It had only taken me 22 years to get here I muse.

I summon Kate's expertise once more to help me get ready. Thumbing through Kate's closet, I feel overwhelmed at all the choices. I need something sexy – if I was going to go out on a real date, let alone with Christian Grey, I wanted to look like someone he'd be seen with. Though I never got dressed up being the recluse that I am, I liked how I felt this morning and wanted to feel that way again. I felt a confidence I had never felt before, and I wanted to be confident tonight.

Tonight would be _the_ night.

* * *

After another quick shower, I smooth down the dress I had chosen from Kate's closet. I'm surprised at the _woman_ looking back at me as I stare at my reflection. Wearing a black tight-fitted dress, I bite down on my lip to supress the grin creeping across my face. The dress fits like a second-skin, coming up well above my knees, border-line indecently short. But it made my legs look like they went on forever. It was short-sleeved with a wide plunging neckline that showed off the swell of my breasts down the middle. I never would have agreed to this dress if it didn't have a sheer black panel in the middle to provide some bit of modesty; however it was still quite racy even by Kate's standards. I don't think I've ever shown this much cleavage before, let alone gone without a bra. Slipping on a pair of red lace panties, I giggle as I imagine Christian's expression when he takes off my dress and sees nothing but them.

"I really think, if I had known you were hiding that body underneath all those clothes all these years, we would have had sex a long time ago. And I would've been the lucky one to claim that v-card." Kate grins salaciously as I step into her room.

"Katherine!" I admonish, shaking my head awkwardly.

"Christian Grey is going to jizz himself the second he sees you."

Blushing in mortification, _he already did_, I sit down as Kate adds some loose, messy waves to my hair, and reapplies my makeup. It's a bit darker and more smoky-eyed than this morning, and she applies a soft pink lip tint and gloss to my lips. Adding a few gold bracelets and bangles to my left wrist, I slip on the nude heels from before and grab a matching clutch.

"Do you have condoms?"

"_What?_" I look at her with wide eyes. "But I don't…shouldn't he…"

"Here. Rule Number One: always be prepared. There's nothing worse than doing all the work and then realizing he forgot a condom. Plus, these ones are amazing. They're ribbed in all the right places." Kate grins. "And they're pretty colors." She giggles, tossing me a few.

I gasp. "Do I really need this _many_?"

"You're right." Kate reaches into her drawer again and grabs a handful more before dumping them into my clutch. "Trust me, you'll need them. That man will probably tear you to pieces tonight."

Sighing, as I realize how unprepared I am, I look at Kate nervously. "What's going to happen tonight?"

She looks at me warily, before reaching back into her dresser and pulling out a pink glittered flask. I've seen this flask many a times before – it's the one she usually slips into her purse when we go out on the town – the odd time I've joined her. Shaking it to see if there's anything still left, she hands it to me and I blindly take a swig. Tequila. _Fuck, that's gross._

"Ana." Kate says her voice now serious. "If you're not ready, don't do this. There shouldn't be any pressure; don't feel like you owe him anything."

"I know." I whisper, because I do. I take another sip from the glittery abomination before tossing it back into her drawer. Probably not the smartest thing for me to be doing right now, but the tingly burn running through me helps to focus my thoughts away from the bundle of nerves consuming me. "It's just…there's this connection that I've never felt before. Do you ever get that attraction to someone? It's like my body _needs_ him, and I just can't control myself. I can't think or anything and it's…it's never happened before. I know I don't know him, but…I want to know him. I want this to go somewhere."

Kate smiles wryly. "If this is what you want, then I want you to enjoy it. Your first time should be special and on your own terms. And if you just want to talk and get to know him, that's okay too." Nodding my head, I urge Kate to continue. "But I just…you have such a good heart, and you're such a good person, I just don't want some man to come waltzing into your life and you immediately jumping when he says to. He'd be crazy not to want to get to know you too. So if you're sure this is what you want, then do it. I just don't you want you regretting it afterwards because you went temporarily insane."

Nodding my head, I let out a relieved sigh.

"Now," Kate grins, "As far as your little romp tonight should you go through with it, I feel it's my responsibility to impart my wisdom on you. One: don't drink too much! You can't handle your liquor as is, and you'll probably be too nervous to eat a lot, so no more than a glass of wine. I mean it; you'll regret it otherwise."

Waiting for my confirmation that I've understood, Kate continues, "Two: Make sure you freshen up before getting into his bed. Fix your hair and makeup, do a little cleanup, that kind of thing." My cheeks redden once more.

"Three: It's going to hurt. Doesn't matter how big he is – I'm guessing he's huge," she winks, "So make sure he goes slow. Trust me it'll fit, but you're going to feel like he's ripping you apart and you're going to want to change your mind. It'll hurt the first few times, but after that it gets better. _Much_ better."

"And Four: Let me know when you get back to his place. I want to know that you're okay. Text me sometime in the middle of the night or tomorrow morning…or whenever, or else I'll worry he's kidnapped and killed you. And _I will_ send out a search party. Understood? I just need to know you're safe."

Knowing Kate means every word, I nod a final time. Looking at the clock on Kate's nightstand, I realize it's nearly 7:00pm. Though my nerves were temporarily settled, I know Christian will be at my door any second now. Taking one final glance in the mirror, Kate nods her head in approval.

This was it.

* * *

**A/N:** Thank you for all the reviews/favorites/follows! Reviews are greatly appreciated!


	6. Firsts

**CHAPTER 6 - FIRSTS**

_When you smile, I melt inside  
I'm not worthy for a minute of your time  
I really wish it was only me and you  
I'm jealous of everybody in the room  
Please don't look at me with those eyes  
Please don't hint that you're capable of lies  
I dread the thought of our very first kiss  
A target that I'm probably gonna miss._

_-First Date (Blink 182)-_

* * *

**(CPOV)**

_Fuck! _

Ana opens the door and immediately my dick stands at attention. She is a siren; a goddess. She is so damn sexy it hurts.

_My dick wants to explode all over her._

"Ana." I breathe unsteadily.

"Christian." She replies shyly, pulling on her coat.

"Ready to go?" I reach for her hand which she readily takes. It's so small and warm, and she gives me a gentle squeeze. _But for what?_ Can she see how nervous I am?

She swings our clasped hands like a child, and I can't help but smile as I look down embarrassed. I haven't been able to stop thinking about our impromptu session in my office earlier this afternoon. I don't usually go down on my subs; I'm much more of a receiver. But this afternoon, I literally couldn't stay away from her. All I wanted to do was kiss her, touch her, _taste_ _her_. And she tasted fucking fantastic. I'd like a repeat this evening, if I can even wait that long. The image of her writhing on my desk, legs open makes my breath hitch for a moment. Yes, I definitely don't think I'll be able to wait until the end of dinner to have her.

As we get to the black SUV, Taylor stands at attention and opens the door for us. He greets us, before walking around to the driver's side and quietly entering into traffic.

We're both silent in the back of the car. I'm far too tense to know what to do in these types of situations. I've never actually been on a date before – this is a first. I don't know the protocol for such an occasion; I had wanted to do some research beforehand but images of Ana in various states of undress and bent in impossible positions kept distracting me. I don't think I've jerked off as much as I did this afternoon since I was a teenager. It was fucking pathetic.

I steal a shifty sideways glance towards her, wondering what she could possibly be thinking. Did she enjoy this afternoon as much as I did? Surely she must've...the proof was all over my mouth.

"So…" She starts nervously. "Where are we going?" Her voice is soft and warm; everything about her is _soft_ and _warm_. My thoughts immediately go back to my lips and tongue on her sweet…

I quickly shake my head. Any more thoughts and I'll end up covered in jizz, again, and without her even touching me. Jesus. _Focus Grey, for five goddamn seconds try not to think about fucking. _

"I wanted to take you up to my club for dinner and drinks."

"You have a club?" Her interest is evident as she shifts in her seat to look at me.

"Yes." What else am I supposed to say?

"What's it called? Grey Club? Grey Bar? Grey Restaurant?" She giggles to herself, and I can't hide my amusement. _Who is this girl?_ And why does that laugh – that giggle – turn me on so much?

"It's called The Mile High Club."

Her eyes widen in recognition. "That's _your_ club? Kate has been dying to go!"

"So you know it?"

"Not me, well, sort of. I only know it because Kate keeps trying to get me to go with her."

"And why haven't you gone?"

"Are you kidding me?" She scoffs, and it both irritates and excites me. No one scoffs at me. "What on earth would a lowly peasant such as myself possibly be doing at one of Seattle's most exclusive clubs? It would probably cost me an entire month's rent to just be able to get in! I would never be allowed in a place like that. It's too high-class, and I'm not nearly up to par with the likes of actresses and supermodels who seem to be the only ones allowed in. I'm a mere mortal as it stands." She says with a breezy wave of the hand. _In mocking?_

She's self-deprecating, but she says it so nonchalantly, so _easily_, and it annoys me.

"How can you say that about yourself?" I can't hide the frustration in my voice and she jumps in surprise.

"I was just joking." She scoffs once more. "But it's the truth." She mumbles, before shrugging and turning back to look out the window. And just like that, she's dismissed this conversation.

Before I can even begin to think up of a way to salvage this…whatever _this_ is, Taylor has stopped the car and is holding a hand out for Ana. My temper is irrationally lit, and I want to - yell at her? Make her take it back? _Why am I getting so upset about this?_ I don't have time to linger on it as Ana stands on the sidewalk surrounded by raucous socialites waiting to get in. _Actresses and supermodels apparently._ I chase after her, and we are escorted immediately to the front door, bypassing the waiting patrons and guests eager to get inside.

The music is loud, and lights flash luring you in towards the promises of an expensive night surrounded by beautiful people. Of course being a part of the Grey Brand, my club stands out amongst the rest of the clubs and bars in the Seattle area. True to Anastasia's presumptions, it does cater to an elite clientele but the way she disparaged it really didn't sit well with me. _Because it's true? How many college students do you know that come here? How many college students do you know period?_

I'm pleased as Charles Wilder, my manager for the club, greets us courteously. He knows how important it is he's here during times I'm here to ensure his staff are at their utmost best behaviours. I won't tolerate sloppy service when I'm not here, but especially when I am here, and he knows this. Also considering I'm his boss and owner of this place, he better fucking well be here to make sure nothing goes amiss.

He introduces us to Emily, the head hostess, who of course is bleach blonde and immaculately dressed in fine black clothes. Her eyes are wide and excited as she takes me in, and I want to fire her on the spot. _Fucking annoying_. More so, because it's so very obvious I'm here with Anastasia, whom Emily pays no attention to.

I'm not familiar with Emily, she must be new, or she must mainly work the later evenings. I've only ever really been here for business lunches or early dinner meetings so I make sure to have the same wait staff on hand. I try to avoid the female staff, knowing they spend most of their time ogling me and it would do me no favors for my business partners and associates to see that nor receive anything but exemplary service at one of my businesses. In fact, I don't even remember the last time I was here for something other than business and just enjoying the club, though Mia and Elliot have both enjoyed many evenings here.

The Mile High Club itself is two-stories with a restaurant, nightclub and heated roof-top patio. It's housed in a 22-floor building, with my club being on the 21st and 22nd floors. In keeping with GEH and Escala, it has floor-to-ceiling glass windows, diamond chandeliers, and only top-shelf beverages and world-class chefs making it a sought out venue, alongside the impeccable view and the prestige of the Grey name. It was one of my first acquisitions, and I remember then how everyone tried to dissuade me from purchasing a club. They had said I needed to focus my efforts on real ventures and businesses, not wasting my time on a hangout for me and my friends. _What friends?_ Naturally, I took their skepticism and turned it into a challenge, one in which I was once again triumphant in proving my worth. The Mile High Club is so much more than just a club, and has been where I have finalized several million and billion dollar deals over the years.

We're led to one of the private dining areas out on the terrace on the rooftop patio. Low-cut dark wood panes enclose us, and matching standalone wooden shutters act as windows to the Seattle skyline. A cream leather oversized L-shaped sofa and a stone grey table sit in the centre, a smoldering glass fireplace burning off to the side. Lush green plants are scattered about, and a wooden trellis hangs above us with dark navy panels draping softly above and around us. A crystal chandelier hangs above, and delicate white flowers climb the lattice frame.

Taylor stands at attention just outside of the perimeter of the VIP area to keep peering eyes and zealous restaurant goers from getting too close. Though he's anything but discrete as he guards the entrance, he remains dutifully in place should any over-eager photographers or the likes feel the need to impinge on my evening.

As we take a seat, there are two chilled glasses of wine already waiting. Ana looks at it hesitantly, before taking a gracious sip.

"This place is beautiful, Christian!" She gushes, setting down her drink as she clasps her hands together in excitement. We are seated side-by-side on the luxurious leather sofa, and it's taking all my strength not to draw the curtains and have hot, dirty sex with her on this table before dinner arrives. Considering how much of a raging hard-on I've had all day, I know it would be a quick hard fuck.

"_You_, are beautiful, Anastasia." I purr into her ear, and she shudders delightfully. She looks at me biting her lip to supress the shy smile threatening to split her face. Without restraint, I lean in and hungrily take that lip. Eager. Desperate.

She gasps before it turns into a moan spurring me on. Her tiny hands are tugging at my hair, and I love it. It's like she's taking ownership of me; claiming me as hers.

And I want to be.

She's feeling hot, too hot, as she struggles to free herself of her jacket while her lips remain glued to mine. I help her out, before pulling away to take in this beautiful goddess. I groan deep in my chest and the bulge in my pants threatens to greet her in a crude fashion.

A tight black dress hugs her in all the right places and all I want to do is rub my hands all over her body. The sheer panel down the middle gives an enticing, if not risqué, view of her round perky tits. Without thought, my thumbs graze over her nipples and she thrusts her chest into my hands. Her head lulls back and I begin to kiss her neck, taking in her scent. The dress rides up, and it's just barely covering her panties. I see a flash of red, and I can't help but grin at the naughty lingerie this innocent little thing has hidden underneath.

My eyes are hooded and heavy, and I can almost taste her. I pull her into my lap in one swift lift, and she straddles me readily. I grind my dick up against her panties, and she lets out a feral noise that makes me think of all the other noises I want her to make once I bury myself inside of her. We're again frantically kissing like horny teenagers, nothing but tongues and lips and hands everywhere.

Thankful for the table in front providing us with some coverage, I bark at Taylor to draw the curtains which he immediately loosens to cover the entrance of our soon to be sex den. I pull up the hem of her dress and greedily run my hands up and down her ass. Everything about her is soft and smooth and perfect. I snap the flimsy lace of her thong once causing her to yelp in surprise. I grin once more, before giving each cheek a squeeze.

"You're so fucking sexy." I growl.

"Mmm." Is all she can say as she grinds back against me. I'm surprised at her confidence; but then again I remember her letting me go down on her in my office and that surprise disappears. She may appear sweet and innocent, but she's anything but. She's the devil dressed in red panties.

She continues to grind those little red panties over my raging hard on, eager for some sort of release. I dig my fingers into her hips spurring her on, our mouths mashed together in a desperate plea for control over the other. And unsurprisingly, I'm _losing_.

We're rudely interrupted as Taylor clears his throat. "Sir. Dinner is ready, would you like us to wait?"

I look up to see Taylor just barely poking a finger through the curtain to address me, and I know the server is standing next to Taylor literally shaking at having the misfortune to interrupt this moment.

Shaking my head, I help Ana off of my lap and onto the seat next to me. She blushes furiously and turns her head away from both of them as I tell them to enter. They seem just as embarrassed as she is and avoids eye contact with the both of us. Dinner is laid on the table, and I dismiss the fucker, letting him know that he was done for the night. I can't afford anymore disruptions and I reiterate that fact to Taylor as well. He nods his head curtly, before drawing the curtains back in place.

Once Ana has regained her composure, she shyly reaches for her fork.

"Everything looks delicious." She remarks, and I try not to watch too intently as she opens her mouth for her fork. Fuck, I want to be that fork. She licks her lips and lets out a moan of appreciation. She takes another eager bite, and I'm glad that I won't have to force her to eat. I wonder when was the last time she ate, but I have a hunch that kiss has left her rather famished.

After some initial awkwardness and once our hormones have settled enough for either of us to form a thought, we fall into an easy conversation. It never fails to surprise me how unexpected this girl is. She's shy one minute, and full of banter the next. She avoids eye contact, then tilts her chin defiantly at me. She's reserved and aloof, then blatantly licking her lips and eye fucking me to death.

I shake my head in awe of her; she is incredible.

* * *

**(APOV)**

I can't stop smiling. Dinner so far has been going well, and I feel like a fool as I try to hide just how delighted I'm feeling. I don't know what came over me earlier, but I was thankful for the dinner interruption, or I'm certain I would have lost my virginity on this table. _God, what am I thinking? Who am I?_

I'm so hot and bothered it's becoming difficult to just think. It doesn't help that we're in this private bubble, knowing there are other people around making it all the more thrilling should I let anything go further. _Naughty_. _Forbidden._ I simply cannot think about anything other than his lips on me. I want them to be _everywhere_. I'm feeling uninhibited and irresponsible, as a whirl of desire courses rudely through my body.

He's charming and smooth; funny and in control. He's relaxed, with his arm draped across the back of the couch, his fingers trace up and down my arm occasionally. We've been drinking on what I can only assume is extremely expensive wine, though I'm cautious to heed Kate's advice and only sip in order to avoid making any embarrassing mistakes.

From the interview and our conversation earlier, I know how controlled and meticulous Christian is about his life. He's terribly private, an enigma to the media. It's impossible to find out any information about him unless its provided by his team of…I don't even know what they are, or by Christian Grey himself. He only surrounds himself with carefully vetted and select members forming his inner circle of friends or associates.

He's worked far too hard to construct his empire, and he's worked even harder to protect it. I can't help but admire that in him; most young and successful people would be eating up the hype and attention surrounding them. But Christian is far too respected and full of class to stoop to any of those shenanigans. Yet here he was, engaging in all sorts of crude and sinful behaviours with me, and I can't help but smile smugly to myself.

After dinner we move to an equally swanky private VIP area in the lounge inside of the club. It wasn't as loud as it had been at the restaurant, and much more intimate. I was glad for the reprieve. Now was my chance to really get to know Christian.

I couldn't help but blush every time I caught Christian's stormy grey eyes lingering on me a little too long. There was no doubt in my mind what he was thinking about. He had snapped my underwear and I was surprised how much I enjoyed it.

_I wonder what else I would enjoy…_

We sit on another plush couch, though this one is smaller allowing us to sit closer together. I don't mind, I quite liked being this close to him. He smells so good – manly, clean, and something all his own. He has his arm draped around me, and I snuggle into his side while we continue to sip and talk.

We keep the topics light – movies, music, books. I want to know more, but my mind is too far gone already imagining his sheets wrapped around us.

Running out of things to say, I can feel the nerves in my stomach begin to clench. We have been here for hours talking, but I can sense him wanting to shift gears. His eyes are dark and carnal – _for me_ – and I'm finding it hard to resist any longer.

Leaning in, I graze his jaw with my fingertips. His eyes flutter shut, and I take this opportunity to gently run my lips against his. They're soft and warm and I can't help but kiss him gently. A slow and fiery burn bubbles in the pit of my stomach as I feel his cleanly shaven skin brush against mine.

I didn't know what sensual meant until this moment, this kiss. A whimper escapes from my lips as I feel him lean in closer, pinning me against the couch. One hand cups my cheek, the other holds my head in place as he continues to deepen his hold on me, turning my sweet kiss into a lusty, blazing prelude to what's to come next.

Panting for breath, my eyes go wide as I look up at this gorgeous being. Boldly, I run my hand up and down his inner thigh, excited yet mortified at my own actions. His sharp intake of breath spurs me on. Without breaking eye contact, I slowly glide my hand over the massive swell in his pants back and forth. Up and down.

"Let's go back to your place?" I ask timidly, and I can't help but giggle at the comical way his eyebrows shoot up in surprise. Nodding his head, and with a quick adjustment of his pants, he stands and pulls me up with him. I've barely had a moment to consider what I've just asked before he's pulling me out the door.

* * *

Once inside the SUV, we're once again all hands, tongues, and lips. I'm a glutton for him - unable to quench my lustful cravings. He kisses me with fervor that makes me feel wanton. Large hands trace a path up my dress, exposing my thighs that are firmly straddling his. I turn around blushingly remembering we're not alone, but instead I see a black-out partition separating us from the front seat. _Huh, when did that get there_? I don't have time to ponder it further as I feel Christian rip my panties off and toss them aside. I can feel the heat and dampness _down there_ and feel my cheeks redden immediately.

"Oh Ana, so wet." He hums against my lips. "So fucking wet." His finger gently slides along my slit, before he slowly pushes it inside me. I gasp at the sensation. _Am I still a virgin? _At this point I could care less, and grind my hips wanting more. "So eager, I can't wait to feel you." He adds a second finger before continuing to pump in and out of me while he kisses my neck. His lips move downwards, where he tenderly traces the swell of my breasts with his tongue. Planting wet kisses on them, the cool air causes me to shiver when his mouth moves to another spot. That same desire from earlier starts to build again, and he drives his fingers faster and deeper. I quiver as the sensation becomes too much too soon, and when his mouth reaches back up to mine, he thrusts a third finger before I'm clenching down on him, moaning into his mouth to stop from screaming out his name. I tremble and shake on his lap, panting for breath. I feel a wetness sliding down my thighs, and I go to wipe it up but he stops me. He doesn't seem to mind, or care, as he grins back in satisfaction. "Fuck, you're so responsive. I like that. I like that a lot. And so fucking tight." He nuzzles his nose against mine, and I can't help but melt at such a tender gesture.

"We're here." He says after giving me a minute to catch my breath, and I hadn't realized the car had stopped moving. Helping me off his lap, he puts my dress back in order before opening the door and stepping out first. With his hand extended, I readily take it before we quickly walk to the elevator.

My legs are wobbly as I try to remain upright. Dizzy with intoxicating cravings, it only intensifies once we're in the confining space of the private elevator to his penthouse. The moment the doors shut, he has me pinned against the wall, legs spread, eager for his attention. Gripping the metal railing to keep my knees from buckling beneath me, I pray that I have enough strength to at least wait until we get to his apartment before devouring each other. I'm desperate to feel him inside of me, my entire body burning to the point where I'm one flick away from coming all over myself.

"Do you have any idea what you do to me?" He growls in that deep sexy voice of his. He has both hands on my hips, and teasingly grinds his pelvis against mine. Nibbling on my ear, I have a hard time concentrating on anything but the feel of his breath, the smell of his skin, and the warmth radiating off his strong, sculptured body.

I am drunk off of him.

The ping of the elevator breaks us both out of our reverie as we stumble inside. I take in the opulent surroundings with my mouth gaping, disbelieving of what I'm seeing. Much like the GEH building and his club, his home is nothing but luxury. The great room is enveloped with tinted floor-to-ceiling windows providing a panoramic view of the Seattle skyline. The city lights twinkle in the background from way up here in the clouds, and it's mesmerizing. Every bit of furnishing is top of the line; the colors muted – greys, whites, and dark navy. A gorgeous white baby grand piano sits in the middle of the room begging to be played, a fluffy white rug underneath it. The floors are a rich dark chocolate hardwood, the countertops a blend of grey and white granite.

I can't help but note the hint of sterility in this place. Though beautiful and expensive artwork embellish the walls, there isn't a lot of clutter or knick-knacks, and it feels more like a showroom than someone's home. It doesn't feel _lived_ in, and I wonder if that's done on purpose. No pictures, no mementos…only things that come with a steep price tag.

Grabbing my hand, he leads me through the open kitchen with frosted glass panes on the cabinets, passing an impressive two-way fireplace and up the grand staircase, just barely catching a glimpse of an impressive bi-level breakfast bar that could easily seat ten people. I was keenly trying to take in my surroundings, but Christian's enthusiasm to get to his bedroom was making the butterflies soar inside my stomach, blinding me to everything but to the torrential feelings whirling inside of me.

Kicking the door open in his fervor, he turned around and kissed me soundly on the lips before pulling me inside. In one swift move, I was thrown gently onto the bed, his body immediately covering mine. The weight of his body drove me crazy; I wanted all of him, and I wanted him now.

Blindly pulling at his clothes unsure where to start, I cup my hands on either side of his face and kiss his pink lips greedily. His tongue dives into my mouth, and I can't help but caress it with my own before gently sucking on it. This causes a delightfully deep rumble in his body that reverberates into mine, causing a spectacular tingle to shimmy down to my core.

His lips begin a trail down my jawline, my neck, down the valley of my breasts.

"These, are spectacular." He mumbles, nibbling each nipple through the fabric of my dress. "I can't wait to fuck them." He grins mischievously. _What does that mean?_

Continuing his trail of kisses, he lifts the hem of my dress and bunches it up until my stomach and everything south is exposed. I had forgotten my panties were now somewhere disposed of in the back of his car, and think it's a shame he won't get to see me in them. _0-2 in the panty department. _

Dipping his tongue into my bellybutton, I let out a shudder. His hands press me back down into the mattress as his tongue glides down my stomach to the tops of my hipbones. _Oh god, he's going to do _that_, again. _

"I haven't been able to stop thinking about you all day." He breathes softly, his fingers tracing lazy circles on my thigh. "You taste so sweet. I can't get enough." He kisses a trail on my thigh, before switching to the other one. I'm biting my lip in an attempt to stifle the uncontrollable noises coming out of my mouth, but it doesn't work. Then, much to my mortification he buries his face down there, before pulling away with a satisfactory smirk. "And you smell so sweet too." _Fuck! _I'm as red as can be, but that only seems to make his smirk grow. Without breaking eye contact, he languidly strokes me with his tongue, causing my body to arch harshly off the bed. Slowly, tantalizing, savoring each lick, his eyes remain watchful of me; studying my every reaction. It's embarrassing yet sexy at the same time.

"God, Christian." I can't help but whimper as my fingers find his soft hair, pulling him closer; wanting him deeper. His mouth and tongue are all over me, sucking, pulling, teasing. I'm wet; too wet. He's getting more and more excited as he sits up a little to change the angle of his mouth, before I feel a finger slip inside of me. _Oh, fuuuck!_

I want this feeling to last forever. My toes are curled, and my fingers are tugging harder on his copper locks, but I don't care. I can't keep my head still from bobbing side-to-side, and my body starts to tense.

"Christian!" I chant over and over, feeling that hammering build inside of me that I know is on the brink of detonating. My fingers are no longer in his hair, and I find myself ripping my dress off my body, and my fingers immediately going to my breasts. I cup their suppleness; they are soft and perky, my nipples pert and rock-hard. I rip off the pasties, hissing in pain. Christian's eyes remain on mine, a smoldering grey on desperate blue. His eyes are narrowed in concentration and pleasure at the same time. Does he get as much pleasure from this as I do? I begin lazily tracing circles around my nipples, before firmly grabbing each breast in my small hands. I pinch my nipples and there is suddenly too much going on and my senses are on overload. I feel the detonation coming, and Christian, sensing my despair, nips my clit with his teeth and plunges two fingers deep inside of me causing an eruption of all my senses. I'm full out screaming, my body is thrashing, and I'm trembling as I feel an endless surge of pleasure attacking me. I'm breathless, weightless, high off of him. He kisses my inner thigh tenderly, before extricating himself from the tangle that is my legs wrapped around him, and pulls my hands gently off of my breasts. Nuzzling his nose against my neck, he inhales deeply before wrapping his arms around me.

A few soft kisses on my collarbone later, I'm finally able to breathe properly, my body beginning to calm. I realize I'm completely naked in front him; but I nuzzle my face into his soft hair, letting out a content sigh and I forget to care. _This man is incredible_.

We're both silent; sated in my post-orgasm afterglow. I've never felt so comfortable before. Naked and wrapped up in this god of a man, I don't even care that I don't look like any of the beautiful women I know this man is used to. Because right now, in this moment, he is here with _me_.

It's a little while before I'm finally back in the present and coherent. We lay there a mess of arms and legs; my sweat dampening the both of us. Our synchronized breath is the only noise in the room, but the more the silence lingers, the louder I hear my own heart beating. With that thought, I feel anxiety start to settle in as I know what's next. It's not that I've changed my mind about what I want to happen tonight; I just…I just don't know how to tell him. I've suddenly dropped from my euphoric high to an impending dread as I realize I know I have to tell him. We can't just lie here all night…can we? _Will he change his mind after he knows? Will he no longer want me? _

_Should I even tell him?_

I feel pathetic and suddenly I just want to leave. My thoughts are jumbled and there is no inner voice telling me what to do. _What would Kate do?_ I already know the answer before I finish the stupid question – she would fuck him. Over, and over, and over again until she couldn't walk. And then she'd do it some more.

I don't think I'll be able to handle his rejection knowing it will absolutely shatter me. I've had a taste of what it could be like to be with him, and I'm not ready to let that go. If only I could preserve this moment just a little bit longer, keep us both hidden in this beautiful sanctuary where only he and I exist, then maybe I could work out the right words to tell him. Explain to him. Make him still want me after all is said and done.

Before I know it, I'm sobbing into his hair and immediately his head jerks up in alarm.

"Shit, Ana, what's wrong? Did I hurt you? _Fuck!_" He looks troubled as he sits up and does a once-over of my body. His words come out tripping over the other, a flurry of concern. I feel mortified and humiliated as I quickly scramble to cover myself with the loosened bed sheets. I turn my head away from him, a loud gasp followed by more sobs wracking my body. _What am I supposed to do now_?

* * *

**(CPOV)**

I'm panicked and don't know what to do. _What have I done_?

We were fine just a minute ago; more than fine. She was so fucking sexy touching herself, grabbing those perfect tits while my mouth was full of her juices. She tastes so fucking sweet, I wanna stay here forever. And after she came, god she's beautiful when she comes, I have never felt the urge to hold anyone before, but with her…everything is changing. All my rules and protocols and everything I've ever known went out the damn window, and I'm at the mercy of this girl.

She felt so _right_ against my body; sweaty and warm. I have never let anyone touch so much of me at once. _Let alone in my bed_. I have always worn a shirt, or made sure my subs were tied up so they couldn't touch me. But I find with Ana, I don't mind that she touches me. I _want_ her touch; her sweet, gentle touch.

She's sobbing and I realize I'm just staring at her like a fucking moron. _Do something you idiot!_

"Ana." I call gently, adding another blanket on top of her. I don't know if she's shivering because she's cold or because she's crying, but she seems thankful for the extra layer. Sitting up, hair disheveled and a few streaks of makeup running down her cheeks, she lets out one last sob before sighing shakily. I notice how soft and puffy her lips look after she cries; god I want to kiss those lips. Instead, I wipe away the runaway makeup with my thumbs, gently kissing her forehead, waiting for her to take the lead. The furrow on her brow softens, and I continue to wait until she's ready.

I have never been gentle with any of my subs before, so I'm baffled as to where my own behaviours are coming from. They are so unlike anything I have ever known, yet here I am, somehow able to provide comfort during this time. And for a moment, I feel like a _normal_ person; not the fucked up piece of shit I've always known myself to be. _Is this what hearts and flowers is?_

"I'm so sorry." She breaths quietly, shaking her head unable to look at me. "I should probably go."

"Wait, no, why?" I try not to sound desperate, but my voice has risen in alarm. _She wants to leave_? "Please, talk to me. What's wrong?"

"I…I just…I'm…" She continues to false start a few times before she shuts her eyes tightly. "You won't want me anymore after I tell you." Large tear drops escape her lids and tumble down her rosy cheeks, proof of her sadness. I feel a twist in my chest knowing I've had something to do with this.

I'm so confused. What could she possibly say to make me not want her anymore? Does she have a boyfriend? A husband? Though, if I'm honest, I don't think I'd be able to stay away regardless. "Tell me." I urge softly.

She shakes her head 'no', though I see her ready herself to tell me. I wait another beat before she whispers, "I've never had sex before."

My eyes widen in…in what? Confusion? Surprise? Anger?

_She's a virgin?!_

"What?" I whisper harshly, suddenly feeling sick to my stomach.

"You heard me." She says in a tiny voice, pulling the layers tighter around her body.

_Goddammit!_

I'm unexpectedly furious as I stand and pace at the foot of the bed. My fingers run through my hair – _just like she had done while I was eating out her tight little centre_ – and I stop. I try every one of Flynn's stupid tricks to quench my temper: focused deep breaths, slowly counting to ten, clenching my fists rhythmically, closing my eyes. _A virgin_… the thought bounces around in my head and I'm…confused.

I'm angry, outraged, furious, baffled by this admission. What the fuck is she playing at? I glare at her intimidatingly, willing her to speak and explain herself. She just stares back at me wide-eyed, lip trembling but doesn't look away. She's willing me in her own way to speak first.

_No one has ever touched her before…_ and suddenly all the wind is out of me, and I sit on my knees at the side of the bed facing her. Her eyes are now downcast, avoiding me. What the fuck am I supposed to say to her? _What do you say to a virgin?_

"Should I go?" She asks quietly.

_Should she? _I can't be with her. I knew I shouldn't have to begin with; at most I thought she was inexperienced…but a virgin? How is that even possible? I'm the last person she needs in her life; I can't give her anything else but sex. And she deserves so much more; this sweet, innocent, kind goddess deserves more than a fucker like myself. Now knowing that she's a virgin, I know this won't just be about sex for her. I had thought maybe we'd have some fun, but that would be it. How have I gotten myself into this?

I sigh, already knowing the answer.

_I don't want her to go. And it's not _just_ sex._

Even before I knew she was virgin, and before my office, I haven't been able to get Ana off of my mind. For whatever reason, for whatever cruel reason, I am completely bewitched by her. She's witty, smart, kind, and beautiful in every way. She's mesmerizing; tantalizing; enthralling.

I look at her, and my non-existent heart pitter-patters in my pitiful chest. Her lower lip is pouty and quivering. She gives me the tiniest of smiles, letting me know it's okay if I ask her to leave. But I don't want her to. I want her to stay. _I want her_.

"Anastasia," I say softly, her name rolling soothingly off my tongue. "I would be devastated if you left." Her head perks up a little as she eyes me warily. "I'd very much like you to stay, if you want to."

She thinks for a moment, before her little voice fills the silence in the room. "But what about…what I said?" She shakes her head desolately. "I've gone and ruined everything. I'm so sorry. I never should have let it go this far."

"Sorry for what?" I ask baffled. "I'm not mad that you're a virgin. I'm…I'm just, surprised is all."

"Really?" She suddenly sounds so hopeful. I nod my head. "Is it okay if we just lay here for a bit?" she asks shyly.

Again nodding my head, she moves over to the middle of the bed and lies on her side; her body neatly wrapped up in sheets and blankets. I climb onto the bed facing her and also lay on my side, one hand propping up my head, the other laying innocuously between our bodies. I stare into those bright blue eyes that are now red-rimmed and puffy and it suddenly hits me that I'm still nearly fully dressed as she lays naked on my bed. I shake my head and chuckle at the thought as she eyes me suspiciously.

"Talk to me, Ana." I gently cajole, hoping to rescue what's left of this night.

"What would you like me to say?" she asks timidly.

My dick jerks to attention once more. How very _submissive_ of her. I immediately shut down that thought. Though the idea of taking her to my playroom had most definitely crossed my mind, now that I know she's a virgin that is certainly not going to happen anytime soon. If ever.

"Anything." I say honestly. I just want to make sure she's okay. Even if we don't have sex tonight, something I haven't been able to stop thinking about all day and all weekend, I don't mind. _Huh. _"Are you okay?" Gently stroking her cheek with my finger, she offers me a sad smile.

"I think so."

"Did I hurt you?"

She shakes her head 'no'.

I let out a relieved sound.

"Can I ask you something?" I nod my head. "If I wasn't a virgin…would you have made love to me tonight?" Her sweet voice and the dejected expression on her face are at odds. _Does she still want me to__?_

"I've never made love to anyone before." I confess before I even realize what I'm saying. She furrows her brow in confusion, and I realize now I have to explain. _Fucking idiot_. "I mean…fuck. I've never been in a relationship before."

"But you've had sex?"

"Yes."

"Isn't that making love then?"

_Oh sweet, Ana. Your innocence is most endearing. _

I shake my head. "I don't _make love._ I never have. I fuck. Hard. It's all I've ever known. No feelings, no emotions. Just sex." I shrug my shoulders, though I suddenly feel like the biggest tool in the world as she stares at me uncomprehendingly. _What must she think of me now_?

"But how can you have sex without feeling anything for the other person? Isn't that _why_ people have sex?"

"Is that why you want to have sex? You _feel_ something?" I cringe at the coldness in my voice and the way she winces in response. And just like that, her eyes dart away from me and she slumps her shoulders in defeat. "I'm sorry." I mumble pathetically.

She shifts in the bed, and just before I think she's going to leave, she lays her head on the pillow, her one hand under her cheek. She closes her eyes and I wonder if she's going to sleep. She bites her lower lip and furrows her eyebrows in thought once more.

There's a lull in the room, and I have no idea how to fix any of this. _Why am I such an asshole?_ And why does she continue to stay here? She should run; far, far away from me. I'll only destroy her. No good could come from this.

I continue to watch her, and unexpectedly I find myself leaning in close and gently kissing her lips. She releases her lip, and I can't help but groan. "Stop biting that lip. It does things to me." I say softly.

And just like that, her breathing hitches and she slowly opens her eyes. And if today hadn't been full enough of surprises, she drops the biggest bombshell of all when she asks, "Will you make love to me?"

* * *

**A/N:** Thank you for all the reviews/favorites/follows! Reviews are greatly appreciated!


	7. Light

**CHAPTER 7 - LIGHT **

_There is love in your body but you can't hold it in  
It pours from your eyes and spills from your skin  
Tenderest touch leaves the darkest of marks  
And the kindest of kisses break the hardest of hearts._

_-Hardest of Hearts (Florence + The Machine)-_

* * *

**(CPOV)**

_"Will you make love to me?"_

She's looking at me with those big blue eyes all innocent and sweet and I…no, _I can't._ Can I?

I regard her carefully. Fuck, I want her. There's no denying that. But can I do this? She's a virgin for fuck's sake; does she really want to lose that to a scumbag like me? I've never made love before…will I even know what to do? What if I hurt her?

What if she hurts _me?_

She's watching me warily, holding her breath in wait for my answer. Tentatively, her small hand reaches to caress my cheek and I cave. I can't resist her.

"Yes." I choke out, nervous and anxious. Excited. _Sick bastard._

The genuine smile on her tasty lips melts the ice in my veins. Her eyes light up, biting her lip anxiously. A first for the both of us. Snuggling into my pillow shyly, her eyes briefly close as she replays my words over in her head.

I take this moment to just look at her. To take in this splendid creature before me, _wanting me._ I know how much of a bad idea this is, something that I can't take back, but the truth is I can't force myself to walk away from her. I won't. Every inch of my body is screaming for her, and admittedly I don't think I have the willpower to deny either of us. But whose needs am I really putting first – hers or mine?

"Would you like a drink?" I blurt, needing a minute to really think this through. My head is foggy and I want to give her one last chance to change her mind for the both of us. Instead, she nods her head.

"I'm just going to let Kate know I won't be home tonight…" She whispers, and my chest leaps in delight.

She's not going to change her mind. _Now what?_

Returning her shy smile with one of my own, I head downstairs. Shit, I hope I have condoms; I doubt she's on anything. I haven't used a condom in…I don't even know how long. My subs have always been clean and on birth control so it was never an issue. I grumble at the thought. I hate those damn things, and I had wanted so desperately to feel all of Ana tonight.

Standing in the kitchen with two glasses of chilled Riesling, I take a shaky sip from mine. _You can do this,_ I pep to myself. _Just don't fucking spank her or whip her and you'll be fine_.

Pacing back and forth, I walk through the dim great room. The lights from the city are sprinkled below us, and I wonder if I can truly do this. She wants this as much as I do, but now _I _feel pressured. Why am I so fucking nervous? I've had sex before. I've had a lot of sex. And I'm fucking great at it. But it feels like my first time as I stand there replaying Ana's words over and over again in my head. _…never had sex before….make love to me….never had sex before…make love to me..._

I try to think of what exactly Ana is thinking of when she thinks of _making love._ Seeing as neither of us has any frame of reference, I can't help but laugh; a half caustic, half hysterical kind of laugh. This will definitely be a first – I've never _not_ felt in control with a woman before.

I'm a virgin all over again.

* * *

Climbing up the stairs I hear shuffling and see the light from my en-suite. I set the glasses down on the nightstand and quickly tidy up the bed noting the sheets are here. _Hmm, Miss Steele naked in my bathroom._ I scrounge through my nightstand to see if there are any condoms there; of course there's not. Shit, we might have a problem.

Before I can think about what's going to happen, I hear the click of the door opening, and there's Ana's leaning against the doorway as brightness floods into the bedroom. A halo of warm light surrounds her; my sweet angel.

My breath catches in my throat at the sight of her, dressed only in one of my button-up shirts she must have found in the bathroom. Only a few buttons are done up, and the shirt falls just below her fingertips hiding away her precious goods, sleeves rolled up. Of course it's white, so I can see her nipples trying in vain to hide beneath the linen of the shirt. Shyly tugging at the hem, a tiny smile spreads across her lips. Her hair is still slightly disheveled from earlier, though it only makes me want her more. She looks ravaged. Thoroughly fucked.

_Soon…_

Slowly, she walks towards me and she smells like sweetness, and flowers, and other girly things. "My my. My clothes have never looked so good before." I grin, stretching my arms out towards her.

A tiny giggle crosses her lips as she walks into my embrace. Nuzzling into my chest, her arms draped around my waist, I find myself curiously _not_ pulling away from her despite the lingering sense of panic that courses fleetingly through me. I inhale her sweet scent reveling in the softness of her hair against my cheek, and it settles me.

"We have a minor problem…" I say slowly, hoping not to alarm her while combing my fingers through her hair absentmindedly. She pulls away just enough to look up into my face.

"Oh?" She asks nervously, and I wonder briefly if she thinks _I _changed my mind.

"I don't have any condoms…"

A full blown giggle escapes her lips and before me is the Ana that has single-handedly turned my entire world upside down –witty, charming, and painfully innocent Ana.

I try to laugh and smile, but it comes out a garbled grimace at best. "Is something funny Miss Steele?" I reply lightly, eager to keep the tension at bay. We're both nervous enough as is.

She steps out of my embrace reaching for her bag, and I get the most delicious view of her ass as she bends over sans panties. A groan whirrs from my mouth as I think about keeping her in that position. _Patience, Grey._ Returning to my side, she produces a colorful condom packet between her two fingers, holding it up for me with a flourish.

"Miss Steele, what else do you have in your bag of tricks?" I ask in amusement, noting the XL stamped in large print, taking the condom from her. She blushes delightfully and offers me a peek into her bag.

I can't help the shock on my face as I see a handful of bright condoms littering the inside. I gape at her in wonder. _Naughty sex kitten in the making_. If she's expecting me to fuck her till dawn, then so help me, try and stop me.

Reaching for her hand I pull her closer to me and wrap her in my arms. Her bag is forgotten as it clatters to the floor and I kiss her slowly, seductively, cherishing what she's offering me.

Her fingers tug on my hair telling me she wants more, her whimpers speaking volumes. And just as all our other kisses before, this one goes from zero to ninety and we're a raging inferno as I lift her in my arms, her legs wrapped around my waist. She feels tiny in my embrace as I lay her down on the bed below me gently. Our lips never cease their frenzied connection and I make quick work of my clothes until I'm down to my boxers.

Her hands are everywhere – tenderly stroking the back of my neck, my shoulders, down my arms. I groan into her mouth in appreciation; it feels _nice_. I've never let anyone touch my upper half, even my arms like this before, so this new sensation does wonders to my body.

Catching our breath, I stare at her in bewilderment. The way she commands my body is surreal, and I feel completely at her mercy.

"Ana, are you sure about this?" She nods readily, a pink blush dusting her cheeks. I give her lips a tender peck before looking down at her scrumptious body. "Then I don't think we'll be needing this anymore." I slowly unbutton the shirt she's wearing and she squirms uncomfortably. It'll be the first time I've truly looked at her naked, and I can't fucking wait. It's like unwrapping the most delicious present ever.

She lifts up her body just enough so I can pull away the shirt, and I can't help but admire just how perfect she is. She continues to squirm – fuck, she's shy – and indulgently rake my eyes up and down her impeccable figure. Her skin is creamy and unmarred; not a single hair or scratch. She has nice-sized breasts, a full B cup, and the prettiest brown nipples. Her stomach is flat, legs toned, a roundness to her hips. I can't help but appreciate her feminine form. She is a beauty.

"You. Are. Exquisite." I whisper reverently, kissing her lips in between words. "Flawless." I can feel the heat radiating off her body as a full-blown blush covers her from head to toe and I shake my head with mirth. She really must learn to take a compliment. "I can't wait to make love to you." I murmur against her mouth and her body turns to jelly, relaxing into the bed and pulling me closer. Never did I think I would _ever_ say those words.

Our kisses our hot and wet and I begin my descent on every inch of her delectable body. I kiss her nose, her jaw, her neck, before gently peppering her glorious tits. Taking them in my hands, _god they fit perfectly, _I squeeze before taking one of them in my mouth. _Mmm, they're so soft and smooth._ I had almost forgotten what a real woman feels like after the last few subs I've had. I make sure to pay equal attention to the other breast, the moans coming from Ana's lips music to my ears. _The soundtrack to our lovemaking._

I can already feel her body rising to a climax, eager for an orgasm as my tongue swirls around her nipple. Her body is so responsive, so wound-up. _No wonder, she hasn't had sex in 22 years. _

I reach in between her legs to make sure she's ready…fuck is she ready.

"You have no idea how much it pleases me knowing I'm the only one who's had the pleasure of your body. _You, beautiful girl. Are. Mine._" I growl possessively against her lips, and she seems to thoroughly enjoy that proclamation. With strength I didn't know she had, she urges me to roll on my back and climbs atop me straddling my stomach. Her wet centre brushes against my abs and I shudder in anticipation. Looking up in awe at her, completely naked, it's exactly as I imagined it would be. Her hair falls over one shoulder, breasts bouncing in time to her rapid breaths. Those blue eyes stare back at me with pure, unadulterated hunger and I feel my dick trying to claw its way through the silk of my boxers.

Leaning down, her tits enticingly rub against my chest. Lips soft and pouty against mine, her hands slide down my biceps and arms until they're grasping my fingertips. _God, this feels amazing._ It's not until I feel her hands back on my shoulders and gently skimming downwards on my chest that I snap and suddenly I'm seized by terror.

"Ana! Please, _stop!_" I shout in whispered fear. Immediately she pulls back, as if I've just burnt her. She scoots down on my body startled, and I sit up in time to catch her from toppling over.

Her eyes are wide with apprehension. _Shit._

"Hey, it's okay." I murmur, not wanting to startle her any more than she already is.

Her voice is tiny and afraid. "Did I do something wrong?" God, she looks like she wants to run.

"No, no, baby. It's…it's me."

She shakes her head. "I don't understand." The furrow in her brow looks so adorable; I can't stop myself from placing a kiss there. It relaxes immediately. "Did I hurt you?" She asks in the same tiny voice. She looks like she might throw up.

"No…no you didn't. Not _really._"

"I don't…I don't understand." She huffs, diverting her gaze which lands on my chest. Before I can move or deter her attention elsewhere, her eyes widen in grief and I know she sees the jagged white circles spotting my chest. I have 8 hideous marks in total: 4 on my front, and 4 on my back. "Oh, Christian!" She gasps in dismay, her eyes tearing as she covers her mouth with both hands trembling. Before she can even think about it, she launches her arms around me and holds me tightly, burying my head into the groove between her neck and shoulder. I realize I'm also trembling, so I hold her tighter, inhaling shakily. This is what I need. _She is what I need._ "What happened? _Who_ did this to you?" She demands, a hint of anger in her sweet angelic voice that seems so out of place. This girl isn't capable of any kind of darkness.

And as much as I want to tell her, tell her everything to purge myself of all this torment I carry with me every day, I can't. It's too dark, too evil; I can't bear putting those thoughts into her head. Her innocent heart should never have to hear those treacherous stories that is my life.

Shaking my head, I think she understands. She pulls away just enough to look down into my eyes, and I can't believe the sadness I see in hers. Tears for_ me_.

"Hey, it happened a long time ago." I try to placate her, ease the anguish that is painted across her beautiful face. "I just don't want to talk about it, if that's okay." I murmur gently. She nods her head meekly, and I wonder if she's afraid of me. Has this changed her opinion of me? Is she disgusted? Revolted? "Say something." I plead.

"No one will ever hurt you again. I won't let them." She declares quietly. Protectively. She tightens her grip around me…_and_ _I believe her. _

* * *

**(APOV)**

I sit on his lap, cradling his head in my arms. This poor, poor boy. Who would ever do that to another human being? My heart is heavy at the thought of anyone being so cruel, so evil to someone. _To Christian_, I think despondently.

I don't know how long we sit there but I feel his trembling lessen and that's when I pull away enough to kiss his lips affectionately. My heart cannot help but ache for him; he has been nothing but strong to continue on despite these scars he bears.

"I won't touch you." I promise.

He nods his head shamefully, though I don't understand why. He has nothing to be ashamed about.

"I like when you touch me." He confesses after a beat. "Just…please, not my chest or my back with your hands."

I nod. _His back_? I don't bother asking, I know it will just set the both of us off again, and I don't want anything else ruining this night. _Our night_.

Instead, I drape both my arms over his shoulders, gripping my elbows on either arm securing him in my embrace. We kiss languorously and unhurried, his tongue lazily sliding into my mouth, and I suck gently. Tonight is about me and him and nothing else.

Time stands still as we create new road maps to each other's bodies. We take our time to explore each freckle, each peak, each valley. I listen intently to his groans and whimpers and file them away in my head. Our kisses are deep and meaningful as we trade moans of pleasure, and they're much more than just a preamble towards hedonistic nirvana.

In this moment, he is mine and I am his.

Our hands begin to roam and explore one another more desperately now, our kisses more heated though I'm careful to avoid his no-go areas. We're warm in each other's embrace, ensconced from the cruelties of the world for just tonight. I kiss his eyelids, his nose, his cheek. I pepper his face with tiny kisses and he tries not to laugh, but the corners of his mouth tug upwards and I'm rewarded with his breathtaking smile and a hearty chuckle that leaves us both grinning. A moment of lightness flits between us, and I know that this is right. _We are right_.

I lift myself up slightly and reach between my legs to his throbbing erection that I can feel pulsing between my legs. Rubbing him through the silkiness of his boxers, he lets out a guttural grunt of appreciation. _I like making that sound._ I continue to run my hand up and down his length before gently squeezing. I yelp as his hips jerk, a salacious grin on his beautiful face.

"Fuck that feels good." He groans, and I feel him grow harder under my touch. I can't hide my delighted smile, climbing off of his lap I sit on my knees and continue to stroke him. His hand runs up and down my naked back humming in appreciation as I caress him, and I'm eager to find out what other noises he can make. We shift on the bed so he can lean his back against the headboard, and his head drops from my sweet torture. Eyes closed, he makes the sexiest faces as I touch him. Studying him with each stroke, I watch as his mouth adorably gapes open and the occasional hiss as I grip him tighter.

"Ana…" He grunts, and it kindles a spark in me as my eyes dance sweepingly over his body. Audaciously, I decide to take this further and wobbly pull down the waistband of his boxers before his erect member springs out. _Oh!_

I gape in awe at the sheer size of him. How is that supposed to _fit?_ He opens his eyes when he realizes I'm no longer touching him and shoots me a wry smile. Leaning forward, his hand continues to circle my back while placing a wet kiss on my shoulder.

"I promise to be gentle. We'll go slow." He soothes cognizant of my hesitation. I nod absentmindedly before grasping his exposed cock. _Oh, it's big!_ It's thick, and long, and heavy, and I gawp at it in surprise and curiosity. I have never seen one before.

Bringing me back to the present, he gently covers my hand with his and guides it to grasp him. With a few strokes, he lets go and I take over shyly. It's warm and hard; his skin soft and smooth in the palm of my hand. I try not to shake while tightening my grasp, switching between different strokes. His groans are getting louder, liquid beginning to seep from his cock; curiously I wonder what it would taste like. His eyes remain closed as he tries to keep his breathing in check, and shyly I bend down and run my tongue over the tip of his dick. Immediately his hips jerk and his eyes fly open.

"_Fuck!"_ He hisses, before he takes both of his hands and cups my face. He looks at me intently, his message clear: _I want you._ It's lusty, sinful, wicked and I feel myself painstakingly wet between my thighs. The throbbing grows with each breath and I desperately want to feel him. The intensity of his stare is almost enough to make me cum gloriously without a single touch. How is that possible? "Jesus, Ana. I nearly came in your mouth!" He says in wonder, shaking his head with a rueful smirk. He grins shamelessly and I feel myself grin back, excitement building. "We'll have time for that later. Right now, I just want to be inside of you."

His words sound sexy coming from his mouth, and I nod my head coyly. He carefully lies me on my back on a bed of pillows, his mouth finding mine and then we're lost in a tangle of arms and legs, his hands tenderly caressing me from head to toe. He pushes my legs further apart as he positions himself in between, his hands gliding lazily up and down my thighs, warming my skin. My eyes sparkle with shy excitement as he sits up just enough to slide a condom onto his large cock, stroking it slowly, his eyes never leaving mine. _Fuck, that's sexy._ He lowers himself until our bodies are touching, his sweat mixing with mine; I can feel and taste his breath as he gazes raptly into my eyes, silently asking me one last time if this is what I want.

With a tiny nod of the head, I lean up to kiss his lips as my silent answer. He shifts himself so that he's supporting his weight on one arm, his other hand reaching down to grasp his ready cock.

"It's gonna hurt at first," He whispers softly. "Just tell me if you want me to stop. I will, okay?"

"Uh huh." I reply breathily, as it's all I can think to say. He presses his forehead against mine, his breath warm on my cheeks.

"Please trust me." He beseeches, and I nod my head once more. I don't know who he's trying to reassure more – me or himself.

His lips meet mine in that slow white-hot way that builds up all my senses and ignites my entire being when I feel the tip of him slide up and down my slit, dripping with my desire. Already he feels too big as he starts to push, but I find it hard to concentrate because his mouth commands all of my attention. I feel dazed and lightheaded as he slowly, just like he said, inches into me. I don't know how much of him is inside, but my eyes tear up on their own at the sharp pain. Eyes closed tightly, I feel him stretch me and it hurts. He's watching me tentatively before he stops, his movements slow and guarded.

"Breathe, Anastasia." His deep voice is like a calling during a storm, and I open my eyes to meet his. "Do you want me to stop?" He kisses my lips softly, tenderly. _Lovingly._ I shake my head no as I try to take a few shaky breaths.

I struggle to relax my body, burying my head in his neck, holding him tightly while he slowly pushes the remainder of his length deep inside of me.

I cry out in pain, tightening my grip around him. He stops once again, letting me get used to this new sensation. I feel…full. _Too full_, like it's impossible that he's inside of me. I don't realize I'm holding my breath until he reminds me again to breathe. Tears prick my eyes and I shake my head. It hurts and I'm too scared to move. Gently, he kisses my eyelids then my lips long enough to force me to exhale. "Breathe, baby."

It takes a little while before I give the go-ahead for him to move, and he kisses my lips sweetly to swallow my cries. Slowly he starts his rhythm back and forth, my body gradually relaxing.

He kisses my neck and my breasts as I let go of him, leaning back and gripping the pillow underneath me. _Oh! This feels good _I realize as I take in a few more calming breaths. The pain has subsided and his steady strokes now send the most delightful pull in my body. I can feel his sweaty chest against mine, my breasts flattened against the hardness of his own chest while my nipples teasingly rub against him. The friction of our bodies grinding together drives me crazy – I want more as I pull him closer to me, my legs draped over his thighs as he thrusts steadily. Our bodies become one, joined in every way as his arms wrap around my body holding me close, his lips on mine.

"Ohhhhh…!" I moan, crying out dulcetly as my heart stutters madly. I'm mewling in a state of frenzy, our slick bodies writhing against one another. Finding our rhythm, I boldly look up into his carnal gaze. It's sensuous and intoxicating, his passion for me clear. We watch each other as the tension builds, our climaxes coming into reach. There's a fluttering in my stomach that causes my heart to jump fitfully in my chest, pushing me closer and closer.

My muscles begin to clench erratically making my breaths come in spurts. I don't know where to focus my attention as my head swims with jumbled thoughts and sensations drowning me in a heady haze of sex. The smell, the feel, the sounds of our lovemaking surrounds us in a cloud of heavenly bliss. My fingers dig deep into his firm ass as I try to pull him closer, force him to go deeper. His hips begin to slam harder into me as he pulls my legs up and tosses them over his shoulder, his dick now driving downwards into me at an almost punishing depth.

"FUCK! CHRISTIAN!" I growl as I feel him deeper, filling me completely in every way. Our eyes lock as we climb higher together towards a moment that will surely shatter the both of us. My body is folded in half as he thrusts into me and holds me tight, my toes curled tightly, my nails leave crescent shapes on his arms and shoulders clinging onto him for dear life. My body is tense and I'm unable to take a proper breath, panting desperately for air as flashes go off in my head. Each thrust leaves me quivering, the sound of his skin slapping against mine only heightening my carnal need for more as he impales me harder and harder until I'm afraid I might just snap in half.

Then suddenly, I'm screaming at the top of my lungs as heavenly bliss pulsates through my entire body. My body tightly surrounds him, gripping him, refusing to let go. Crying out in surrender at the sheer force of impact, I tremble as I hear him grunt and curse tumultuously. His fingers find my clit and rubs insatiably extending my orgasm and I continue to writhe beneath him, his name fumbling from my lips.

He quickens his tempo, his hips slamming into me at a delirious pace desperately chasing his own release. I'm floating on air in our own divine creation as I ride out my orgasm, seconds later he finds his own crescendo chanting my name over and over. I feel him spasm and stutter inside of me, our bodies pulsing as one.

Then silence.

Collapsing on top of me, I wrap my arms and legs around him content to never letting go. I murmur his name over and over kissing his sweaty forehead and he buries his head between my breasts, holding me.

I've never felt this kind of happiness – never knew it _existed_ – as we lay sated and replete within our own resplendent world. _I don't ever want this to end._

* * *

**(CPOV)**

I slowly lift my body and ease myself out her. She winces in pain and I quickly kiss her lips to mollify the sting.

A shy smile forms on my lips and I am speechless. I look at her reverently and she returns my shy smile. Her lips are red and swollen, a radiant glow brightening her cheeks. Sweat drips between her breasts, and with the tip of my tongue I chase its path causing her to giggle.

_I just made love to this incredible woman. _I am astounded as I look at her beaming indulgently, her eyes bright and serene. She places her tiny hand on my bicep and gently squeezes, biting her lip playfully. _She wants more already? _Even _I_ need a minute after _that_.

She climbs onto my lap, pinning me to the bed, tentatively lying her head on my chest. I prop us up on a pillow and pull the blankets overtop of us, craddling her in my arms astounded at just how _right_ this feels. She wraps her arms around my neck and snuggles into my body, a perfect fit.

Neither one of us says anything, but I don't think words exist that could possibly describe what we just shared. It was ardent, passionate, sensual. _Pure_. I have never had this kind of experience before. Sex has always been raw, hard, devoid of any emotional attachment. Yes, it was pleasurable, but never like this.

_Nothing will ever be like this._

I kiss her forehead and taste her flushed, salty skin against my lips. My heart swells with unnamed feelings and I feel frightened and alive at the same time. Her fingers dance up and down my arm before she lifts her head to gaze up at me.

"That was incredible, Christian." She whispers blushingly, her smile honest and genuine and I realize what a momentous occasion this is for her. Us. For me. _Is that possible? _I've known her all of five minutes, yet the attraction I feel for her goes well and beyond anything just sexual. Tonight proves all of that. I was nothing like myself; it wasn't about control or power or dominance. No, tonight I was someone worthy enough of Ana's affection. Someone who cherished her body, sweetly kissed her lips and brushed away her tears. _Made love to her._

I hold her tightly to my chest, unable to form words that would suffice to express this blissful feeling glowing inside of me. She snuggles into my chest, _and I let her_, before I feel her dozing off, her breathing slow and unhurried. The steady _thump-thump-thump_ of her kind heart against my chest resolves any of the lingering doubts I had that this could have been anything but right. Kissing the top of her head, an honest smile tugs at my lips before I can stop it.

For the first time in my life, I feel light.

* * *

**A/N:** Thank you for all the reviews/favorites/follows! I appreciate all the feedback!


	8. Breakable

**A/N:** Thank you for all the kind and beautiful reviews for the last chapter. I appreciate each one, and I'm glad you've all enjoyed thus far! Updates may come a little more sporadically as real life picks up with my new job, but I do have several chapters already written (currently working on chapter 19!) and the direction I want this story to go already planned out. Hopefully an update a week or every two weeks :)

* * *

**CHAPTER 8 – BREAKABLE**

_If I was not myself  
And you were someone else  
I'd say so much to you  
And I would tell the truth  
'Cause I can hardly breathe  
When your hands let go of me  
The ice is thinning out  
And my feet brace themselves._

_-Dead in the Water (Ellie Goulding)-_

* * *

**(APOV)**

The warmth and heavy weight on top of me stirs me awake. At first I'm startled; I've never slept in a bed with anyone before. _Not like this, _at least. As I wake, I slowly peek open one eye to see what, or who, it is.

My mouth tugs into a smile, and I chew my lip to squelch the excitement from seeing Christian, _Christian Grey_, head buried on my chest, arms and legs tangled around me.

My own kind of security blanket.

I take this rare moment to look at him without those piercing grey eyes staring back at me. God, he really is handsome. He looks peaceful as he sleeps; innocent and calm. I want to touch him, but I'm afraid of waking him. Instead, I keep a watchful eye staring longingly at his pink lips, his long lashes, the swoop of his hair as it hangs messily over his forehead.

Looking around for a clock, I realize how late in the morning it is. The sun is sitting high and shining brightly through the massive wall of windows. _Gosh I hope those are tinted, _I gawp wondering if anyone saw us. I giggle without thought, once the absurdity of my own thoughts catch up with me. Of all the things I could be thinking about at this moment, _that's _what I choose?

Looking back down, I realize Christian has awaken and is staring up at me, a wry smile stretched on his face. "Giggling at this hour? What on earth could possibly be so funny?" His voice is deep and raspy and sleepy, and I find I quite like it. Is there anything not sexy about this man? "Good morning." He smiles brightly, placing sweet kisses on the swell of my breasts. Butterflies dance in my stomach as I try not to squirm. "What time is it anyways?"

He slowly lifts himself off of me just enough to turn his head and look at the alarm clock as I brush his hair back with my fingers. A cool breeze washes over my sweaty skin where Christian's warmth no longer lies. Already I miss the weight of his body on mine, and I inwardly groan. _Get a grip._

"Jesus, 10:00am?" He gapes, quickly sitting up. It's only then I realize its Tuesday, a weekday.

"Oh, I'm so sorry! I didn't realize…" I begin to make quick work of untangling us. "…I should get going, you probably have to go to work-"

"Stop." He says softly, grabbing my arm gently.

"I should've set an alarm or something; I don't usually wake up early. I'm not a morning person at all! It's why I didn't have any early morning classes. Kate usually wakes me up, are you going to be in trouble? Do you need to go? Sh- _what?_"

He's sitting there trying to hide his laughter as he stares at me, eyebrow raised. "You talk a lot, you know." He teases lightly. "It's not your fault, stop apologizing. Just let me call the office, and then we can have a shower before breakfast." He kisses the corner of my mouth before moving off the bed. "And no, I won't be in _trouble_, have you forgotten who owns the company after all?"

_Right, of course!_ I mentally kick myself. _Stop. Talking_. Nodding my head, he stands sans clothing and walks to grab his phone. I watch as every muscle flexes while he walks and I realize I'm drooling. _Actually_ _drooling_. He's saying something, but I'm not paying attention. All I can think about is having that body wrapped around me: warm, hard, sweaty. _All man._

As I continue to stare at Christian talking on the phone, I realize I need to let Kate know where I am before she goes ballistic. Considering just how late in the day it is especially by Kate's standards, I reach for my phone. As expected, there's a sequence of messages waiting for me.

**_*You better be knee-deep in sex right now, or else there is no excuse not to be home or letting me know where you are. – K*_**

**_*What the fuck, Steele. Where are you? Where are you? Where are you? – K*_**

**_*Oh my god, are you doing it right now? ARE YOU HAVING SEX? – K*_**

**_*Did you just lose your virginity? Right now? Like…THIS very moment? How about now? – K*_**

**_*Is he big? Like…huge? How big is he? Did he break you? – K*_**

**_*What does he look like naked? Send me a pic ;) – K*_**

**_*ANA! – K*_**

**_*If I don't hear from you by noon, I am sending out that fucking search party. I'm not kidding. I'll break down the walls and drag you out naked-as-the-day Carla brought you into this world. – K*_**

The fact that Kate had the time to wait up all night and harass my phone with her ramblings makes me smile. I have no doubt she spent her night nursing a cheap bottle of wine on the couch, infomercials galore as she sat curled up on the couch, phone in hand ready to text and call in her purchases. Kate's love for the shopping channel gave me the fortune of being able to try out all the ridiculous products ever created, and I grin at the thought. I can't wait to see what will arrive in the mail in 4-6 weeks.

Quickly, I debate whether waiting until closer to noon to text her back just for fun, but then realize it seems I have a penchant for not noticing what time it is. _Wouldn't want to risk that search party_. I have no doubt Kate would stop at nothing short of barging through Christian's doors and pulling me by my hair out the door just to teach me a lesson in keeping her in the dark and waiting.

**_*Sorry! We just woke up ;) I'm going to stay here for a bit…cancel the search party. I'm more than fine! Xoxo – A*_**

I look up to see Christian finishing up on the phone, watching me intently. "Kate." I explain, setting my phone back on the dresser. "I was just calling off the dogs."

"Ah, I see." He winks, which stirs everything below the waist. "So, how about that shower?" He extends his hand for me, and with the other, I quickly pull some sheets around me while taking his hand. "Uh, uh, uh." He tuts, and I look at him confused. "Drop the sheets." He says in a low, sexy, voice and immediately I comply. I don't even care that I'm blushing red knowing he can see me fully naked in the light of day. "Come here." I make quick work of closing the distance between us before he pulls me flush against his body. "We have the whole day to ourselves now. What _shall_ we do?" He wriggles his eyebrows impishly and I can't stop from beaming up at him.

"I can think of a few things." I say breathily, taking us both my surprise. " We still have those goodies in my purse." _Jesus, who are you?_

He lets out a wolfish howl of amusement, shaking his head. "Yes, how could I forget." He winks again. "Go grab one of those; I'll get the shower started."

He walks away naked and glorious as I fumble my way through the mess of sheets and clothing to find my purse. "Ah ha!" I gush in delight as I pull out a condom. My face heats up at what I know will happen, but before I can mull it over any longer, I hear him calling my name and I try desperately not to trip on my haste to get to the bathroom. Once there, I realize he has drawn a bath instead. Not that I mind, but my confusion must be obvious.

"I figured you might be a little sore…so I thought a bath would be better." He shrugs his shoulders sheepishly. "Is that okay?"

I nod eagerly. And it's only then that I realize just how achy and sore I am…everywhere. But it's a delicious soreness I welcome. A sexy kind of soreness.

He slips into the tub first, before pulling me in and I settle between his legs, my back to his front. I sigh happily at the soothing hot water easing the tension from my body and the warmth of his strong arms around me. He kisses my neck teasingly, hands roaming up from my stomach to my breasts before settling back on my stomach.

"How do you feel this morning?" He asks hesitantly, nervous even.

I think for a moment. How _do_ I feel? A lot has happened in the past few hours. I still look the same, and I still feel the same for the most part. It's a hard feeling to describe as I try to grasp words and form a sentence to explain this…whatever it is I'm feeling.

"Happy." I settle on, smiling shyly to myself. And it's the truth.

I hear him sigh behind me, his arms tightening around me. "Me too." He murmurs against my skin, and I wonder if this is yet another first. The air of wonder in his voice makes me think it is.

Neither of us is able to muster the courage or words to break this blissful moment after that. I don't care, the easy silence between us quelling any awkwardness. Our little bubble remains intact for a just a while longer, the fizzy popping of soapy bubbles and the soft crooning of a saxophone droning quietly from the speakers relaxing me completely.

It's not until I feel him shift behind me that I feel his hard erection push against me. _Mmm, the reason why I'm so sore this morning._ I giggle and he mumbles an apology as he tries to readjust himself.

I think for a moment whether or not I want to do this. I've thought about it, but actually doing it is another thing entirely. A new sense of boldness overtakes me at a simple glance towards him, and knowing how much he pleased me last night makes me want to please him just the same. Sitting up, I turn to face him. He shoots me a questioning look, but I ignore it, and shamelessly reach down and wrap my hand around his throbbing dick. _Gees, he's turned on._

"Baby, that's not what I was trying to say." He admonishes himself. "I just needed to move-"

I press my finger to his lips, silencing him.

I continue to move my hand up and down loosely, feeling shy and brave at the same time, as he watches me cautiously unsure if he's allowed to enjoy this or not. Leaning forward I kiss his lips and reassure him that it's okay, before slowly tightening my grip on him.

Hissing through his teeth as I add my other hand, I begin exploring new ways of pleasuring him. He hardens in my hand, and I fucking love it. I cup his balls with my palm and I feel his entire body shudder in delight.

"Ana." He growls, his hands gripping firmly on either side of the tub. It turns me on to see him lose control like this.

"Sit." I order, as I nod my head to the ledge of the tub. He looks at me for a moment in bewilderment at my demand, before shakily nodding his head and pulling himself out of the tub, his brows drawn in confusion. I grin with glee, watching the water roll down his body, but I keep my face down so he can't see. Once seated, I wade through the water and place both my hands on his thighs. He braces himself on either side with hands firmly planted, the veins in his strong arms visible. His eyes turn dark and wicked as he watches me, stalking my every move, trying to regain his hold over me. I don't let it unhinge me; I _want_ to do this.

He starts to tell me that I don't have to, I don't owe him anything, but I'm not listening. And he seems more than happy to just accept that this going to happen as I grab him once more and part his legs enough so I can fit between. I'm flying blind without a clue of what to do, but I place the tip of his dick in my mouth, swirling my tongue over his head curiously. I feel each of his veins throb with excitement, hissing with each swirl, each flick, each suck. _Mmmm, I like this._

I place kisses up and down his shaft, my lips warm against the smoothness of his skin. His soft moans are encouraging and I shyly place him in my mouth slowly moving my tongue around, taking him deeper and deeper. Arms draped around his waist, securing him in place, I move my body closer. The only thing controlling his dick is my mouth, and I feel a wicked sense of power over him. His arms hang loosely over my shoulders, fingers absentmindedly playing with the ends of my hair. It's not until he tips my head backwards that our eyes meet and I see just how much he's enjoying this. His steely grey stare penetrates me, urging me on. I can hear him grunting more and more the deeper I go, until I've taken him all in. His tip hits the back of my throat, and he curses in bewilderment.

"Fuck, Ana. How are you doing that?" He rasps, as I continue to pump him in and out of my mouth. "Baby stop, no more…" He begs, his body tense and I know what's coming next. He tries to push me away, but I don't let him; instead I push him deeper one last time before I feel him throbbing inside of me, his hot cum raining down my throat. I swallow gluttonously, my inner goddess on fire as I watch his strong body writhe, a string of expletives fumbling from that beautiful mouth.

I lick him clean until he's no longer trembling, pushing away and salaciously licking my lips. I stare up at him eyes wide, lashes fluttering looking for approval. _I can't believe I just did that_. My lips feel swollen and puffy, and I pout in wait. Shyly running my fingers up and down his thighs, he lets out a lingering moan.

"That…was…" He shakes his head, unable to form a thought. His eyes are wide, face reddened.

"Did I do okay?" I ask in a small voice. There's a pregnant pause in the air, before he snaps out of his stupor and shoots me a lewd look, eyes dancing with mischief. Sliding back into the water, he pulls me onto his lap and kisses me fervently, needy, desperate to tell me what his words can't. It's raw and hard and his vice like grip tightens around me as he grinds his semi-hard dick along my slit. This kiss is enough to appease my question. I did more than okay.

Breaking away breathless, he shakes his head once more. "What the fuck _was_ that?" He asks in awe. "You've never done that before?" I shake my head no. "Fuck if I believe that." He whispers without malice. "That was incredible. Unbelievable. I…I've never…nobody's ever…_shit_." His inability to form a sentence is evident by his frustration, but it only makes me grin more. "A+. That's what that was." He finishes, giving up trying to say any more. "You, Anastasia, are incredible. And to think you've never done any of this before." He kisses me once more, unable to stop smiling to himself.

"A+?" I giggle and he nods his head enthusiastically. _A+._

* * *

The water has gone tepid by the time Christian pulls me out of it, legs wrapped around his waist. He carries me into the shower, pinning be against the cool tiles and I gasp in shock as my feet hit the floor. Water rains down on us immediately warming me, and I groan in appreciation. Watching the droplets slip down Christian's torso soaking his body causes a deep ache inside of me, and I'm all too eager to fulfill that growing desire. The shower quickly fills with steam and we're lost in a swirling white cloud of heat.

"Turn around." He says softly, and I turn to face the wall while he nudges my legs apart. Grabbing my hips and angling them just right, I feel his rubber tip slide up and down my slit testing me. "Ready?" He asks into my ear, and I nod my head eagerly, the bass of his voice tingling down to my toes. His fingers find my sweet spot to make sure, and his deep rumble of appreciation is answer enough.

Gripping my hips, he thrusts into me slowly and I let out a cry as my body quickly tries to accommodate him. I feel that unfamiliar stretch as he starts to move slowly, giving me time to adjust.

"Okay?" He asks leaning his chest against my back, and I give a tiny nod of the head. I remember to breathe and relax, each stroke coming more easily now. "Fuck, you're so tight." He grunts, his hands firmly planted on my hips as he pulls me back with each plunge.

My body loosens and he begins to pick up his pace as I beg him to go faster. I brace myself firmly against the wall as we hit our stride, meeting each of his thrusts with my own sinking onto him harder and harder. Knowing how this ends, I'm insatiable to reach that finish. This time is not like our first – there are no slow strokes or tender kisses. My body is still riding the high from Christian's blow job, and I'm due for my own precious release. This time, it's about getting my due pleasure, and he is more than willing to satisfy me.

"Shiiitt…" He barks, his veins throbbing inside of me getting ready to spurt. He slams into me harder as my body starts to clench down firmly around him mewling for more, eager for that shattering prize.

I pant his name, his fingers digging deeper into my flesh. "Baby I need you to come for me." He growls desperately, sliding his hands to cup both of my breasts. His fingers tug at my nipples sharply, pinching them and rolling them between his fingers. Combined with his wet tongue licking up and down the side of my neck, it's enough to send the jolt of electricity hurling through my veins straight to my aching core in no time at all. I let out a scream as it rocks me, my body withering, muscles clenching with relief before falling limp against the shower wall. Slamming into me a few more times, he quickly finds his own release, his dick jerking inside of me.

The sounds of the water pitter-pattering on our naked bodies and dripping to the floor as he buries his head in my wet hair fills the silence in the shower. I feel him moving behind me as he rips off the condom and tosses it to the floor before he adjusts the shower head to rain down over us, and I'm teetering on the edge of exhaustion. Thankfully he holds me upright, rinses the both of us off, before carrying me out to the bed in a towel.

I smile lazily at him, no energy left for anything more. He's whispering something in my ear; instead, I curl into a ball and close my eyes sleepily. The last thing I hear before falling asleep is his soft chuckle and the gentle smack of his lips against mine.

"Sleep, baby."

* * *

I don't know how long I nap for, but when I wake up I'm wrapped in a white fluffy robe that feels heavenly against my skin. I dry my hair and run a comb through it as Christian spends an indecent amount of time rubbing lotion over my body before we finally make our way downstairs hand-in-hand.

I can't stop the goofy smile on my face as we walk into the kitchen, but it's immediately halted when I gasp and hide behind him pulling the robe tighter around me.

There's a woman standing there, and she looks equally as shocked to see me.

"M-Mr. Grey." She greets, straightening herself after the initial shock. "Miss…"

"Steele." Christian finishes.

"Miss Steele." She greets once more. "I've made breakfast if you're ready." She replies, going to pull out two plates from the warmer. She's an older lady, perhaps late 30s or early 40s, with her blond hair tucked neatly into a low bun. She's wearing a knee-length dark grey skirt and matching blouse, and her eyes kindly glance at me before looking away.

"Yes, thank you Mrs. Jones, we appreciate it. Ana, please, sit." He directs me, and I tentatively walk over to one of the bar stools.

"Anything else I can get for you? A drink perhaps?"

"Coffee for me, and an Earl Grey tea for Miss Steele. Bag out please." _He remembered._

The woman nods, and our drinks are quickly set out before us. I continue to stare, unable to even pretend to be polite. Who is this?

"Thank you Mrs. Jones. That should be all." She nods her ascent before disappearing with a polite goodbye. "Taylor." Christian beckons, and the man from last night, the driver, appears out of nowhere. Have they been here all night? The man is dressed sharply in black slacks and a crisp black collared button up shirt. His broad stance and height intimidate me, wider and taller than Christian himself. "Miss Steele and I will be staying in for the day. Please no visitors. We would like the penthouse to ourselves." He gives the man a shrewd look, and Taylor nods in understanding.

"Yes Sir. Good day then. And to you Miss Steele." He nods once more before making himself scarce.

I gawp at Christian and at what just happened. Who are these people?

Sensing my burning curiosity, he takes a seat next to me and kisses my cheek. "That was Mrs. Jones, she minds the house and does the cooking for me. And you met Taylor last night, he's the head of my security and my personal security detail. Don't worry, they're very discreet, you'll never know they're here."

I nod my head dumbly. Of course he would have people working for him, yet it still surprises me seeing them. I've never known anyone who had their own personal staff, and here they are, waiting on me as well. It's an unsettling feeling.

I don't have much time to linger on it, looking hungrily at the plate before me. There's a delicious looking omelette, a side of bacon, and some neatly cut up fruit. I dive right in as I hear Christian chuckle, but I don't pay any attention to him. I'm famished after last night and this morning, and it only seems to please Christian more. After my first plate, he walks around the breakfast bar and pulls out another plate with some left over bacon and another omelette. We decide to split the omelette, and I finish the rest of the bacon and fruit before finishing off my tea.

"You, are a delight." He whispers against my cheek before kissing it once we've finished breakfast. The sweetness of that statement makes my heart swoon as I go to clear the dishes. Shaking his head, he tells me Mrs. Jones can do that, but I refuse. I've always cleared my own plates. He just shakes his head, waiting for me to finish before heading into the great room together.

* * *

I don't even realize what time it is until Christian makes a move to adjust us. We've been lying in the great room after our big breakfast and I feel completely content in his arms. We lay on an oversized chaise lounge pointing out towards the Seattle skyline, a light wool blanket cocooning our bodies. Positioned so we're facing the million-dollar view, I find myself envious that he gets to look at this every day. How could anyone not love living in a place like this?

"You have a beautiful home." I start. Having him all to myself, I want to make the most of it. "Is it just you here?" _Who else would be here? Seriously, Steele._

"Thank you. And yes, just me. But my staff do have a wing here where they stay."

I nod, then furrow my eyebrows; this wasn't what I wanted to talk about. Sensing so, he smiles gently and waits for another question.

"Was last night good for you?" I blurt out, much to my own horror. _What is the matter with me?_

He supresses a smirk, as he nods his head, eyebrows raised to affirm his sentiment.

"I came like a fucking freight train. I think that's answer enough." He chuckles, and I find myself blushing as I bury my head in his chest to hide from my mortification. "Oh Ana. What am I ever going to do with you?" I mewl as he runs his fingers through my hair. "You know…I've never made love to anyone before. I was quite nervous I wouldn't know what to do." He says in a shocking confession, and it's so honest and open I squeeze my arms tighter around him.

"I think you did just fine." I whisper. _"More than fine."_

Another soft chuckle from him causes his chest to vibrate delightfully, but that feeling is cut short as I remember last night's painful reality of Christian's past.

Those scars.

Before I can stop myself, the words are out. "I'm sorry if I hurt you last night…when I touched your chest, I didn't know. Am I hurting you now?" I wonder as I begin to pull away from him. He lets me hug him, so I never realized touching his chest was an issue.

"Ana…" There's a stressed warning in his voice. "I don't like to talk about it."

"I know…" I start slowly. "But…I just want to know _anything_. I don't want to be hurting you. Is there anywhere else I can't touch? Does it hurt when I hold you?" I feel the dreaded urge to cry, because if he says yes, I don't know how I'll deal with not being able to hold him.

"Honestly I don't know what to think." He whispers. "Before you…I've never let anyone touch my chest – not with their hands, nothing. I don't let people hug me, not even my parents."

I sit up, eager for him to open up. I try to keep my emotions in check, but I feel my lip already quivering. He's never been hugged before?

He continues. "I don't know. When I first held you, I didn't mind. It was uncomfortable, but it wasn't painful. And yet, I _liked_ it. It was confusing; it's still confusing because I'm so used to reacting so differently if anyone even comes near my chest. The exception being Mia, my younger sister. But just now, having you laying there next to me, it felt nice. It _feels_ nice. I didn't know it could feel that way." His voice is soft, and I can hear his undeniable confusion.

"What does it usually feel like?"

I see him pale, and I know I'm threading dangerous waters. But I'm compelled to know. I want to know him. I see him struggle with himself between wanting to tell me, and wanting to shut me out; I hope he chooses the former.

"What I feel…and what I think I'll feel…it's hard to describe. But I get this fear of being burned, _literally being burned_…" His voice is shaky and immediately the shutters come down. He has this look in his eye, far and distant, and I know I've gone too far.

I kiss his lips gently and tell him he doesn't have to tell me anymore despite the unquenchable need I feel to beg for more information. I reassure him that it's okay, but it takes a few minutes before he's settled again.

We lay there after that, unsure of where to go from here. I don't try to get closer to him and I move a little off of his chest, seeing a flicker of disappointment in his eyes. _At me, or at himself?_ I'm so confused as to what to do, what I _can_ do, and I wonder if I should just leave. I understand his reticence in sharing something so painful to him, but I thought we were beyond that now. Don't I deserve a little bit more?

"Don't." He startles me. _Had I said those thoughts out loud?_ "You're thinking too much." He says quietly. "I don't want you overthinking this. This is my issue; it has nothing to do with you. I'd really like it if you stayed, but you need to drop it." There's an iciness to his tone that is unfamiliar to me. Where's the Christian I've just spent the last 24 hours with?

I nod, though I'm torn between my own selfish reasons and not wanting to upset him. I feel this longing to be with him, know him, but there's something that keeps pushing me away. _He's_ pushing me away. And that realization hurts, especially after everything we've just shared together. I gave him all of me, and yet…I shake my head. How can this go anywhere if I know nothing about him?

In a fragile voice, I ask, "If you don't want me to know you, then why am I here?"

And just like that, I feel our perfect little haven begin to crumble around us.

* * *

**A/N:** Thank you for all the reviews/favorites/follows! Reviews are greatly appreciated!


	9. Darkness

**CHAPTER 9 – DARKNESS**

_Shoulda just called it like I saw it.  
Shoulda just called for help and ran like hell that day.  
The burning, the stinging, the high and the heat  
and the "left-me-wanting-more"  
feeling when he kissed me._

_-Whiskey (Jana Kramer)-_

* * *

**(CPOV)**

How can this beautiful, innocent little girl be so disarming? She's looking up at me again with those damn blue eyes, those eyes that can quite literally bring me to my knees, and I force myself to look away. She doesn't know she's doing it. The power she holds over me with a single look, a single touch, a single word. But she's fucking tearing me to pieces and I don't understand any of it.

She's become this terror – a beautiful one at that – in my life, hell-bent on wreaking havoc and she does it so easily. Which is why I want to scream at the top of my lungs, take a bat to every single window and smash it to pieces, and run away until all consuming thoughts of her become a faint and distant memory. A fleeting thought.

A remembrance many years from now.

I have spent my entire adult life keeping people at a distance where they fucking belong. Growing up the way I did with such anger and such distaste for everything around me, to this day I cannot reconcile the fact that people want to be in my life. Or that they _should._ Simply, because people cannot be trusted. Not me. And certainly not them.

It's a terrible way to live, or so I'm told, but I'm okay with it. I like the solitary realm of my perfectly constructed world where the power and control belong solely with me. Flynn has scolded me on several occasions when we broach this topic – my yearning for solitude. He says it's a defense mechanism because I'm afraid of letting people in, giving up that control, allowing myself to be happy. Most of all, he says my denial is due to my fear of those people leaving me once I do let them in. _Abandoning me_. It's all bullshit; the fact is I _like_ being alone. And right now, that's what I want more than anything.

I don't want to answer her stupid questions. She doesn't need to know about my damn scars, the fucking crack whore, or the nightmares that plague me every goddamn night. _Is that what she wants to hear?_ Those sordid details of my fucked-up life beneath my CEO mask? Why? What kind of sick person would want to know those things?

We're no longer wrapped up in each other's arms snuggled up like a burrito. She's sitting on one end of the couch, me on the other. The distance is symbolic; if only she knew how different and far apart our worlds really are. The ticking of the clock passes by, but neither of us says a word. I look at her but she avoids my gaze. This is why I don't do relationships and any of that other crap. Someone ends up with their feelings hurt, and there are tears and sobs and the part of my brain that's supposed to feel sorry for them merely rolls its eyes in annoyance. If I had just gotten a sub, _if Ana had just been my sub_, we could've had a nice fuck and then I could have sent her on her way. I wouldn't feel like such a dick right now knowing I've upset her. It hadn't been my intention, but I knew it was inevitable. Undoubtedly my judgement was malfunctioning at the time I decided it was a good idea to pursue her, and this is my penance.

I don't know what to say to her. My mind is blank and words elude me.

_The distance grows._

Elena's utterances decide to fill the emptiness of my brain at this moment; scolding me, ridiculing me, berating me for my poor decisions as of late. If only she knew what kind of shit I was getting myself into not only by chasing after this _girl_, but the carelessness in which I've gone about it, she would undeniably punish me until she killed me. Or at least to the point where I'd be _wishing_ she would just kill me.

Elena.

I was a bastard of a child growing up. I was confrontational, defiant, aggressive. I hated everything around me and was a miserable son of a bitch, and I didn't give a fuck about myself or others. It took a long time for me to learn how to reign in my temper and control my emotions, all thanks to that woman. She taught me the meaning of hard work, motivation, success. I _know_ Ana would be mortified to learn about my relationship with Elena, but the cold hard fact is that she, Elena, was the one who saved me from myself. I can count on both hands the number of times I've come close to death – either by my own hands, or the hands of others. I drank, I fought, I tempted fate time and time again. I lived with ruthless abandon; not a worry in the world about any of the consequences.

Now, I wish more than anything that I had never met Elena. How different would my life have been if someone like Ana had come in to save me instead? If I had just had normal, regular relationships with women? Would I have been able to pursue something more with Ana now? Though I no longer feel the desire to continually get into fist fights and pummel any son of a bitch who looks at me, I still have this darkness that haunts over me because of Elena. I still live in a world of blackness, eager to swallow me and demolish me.

I take another look at her. The sweet brunette with pale skin and wide blue eyes is such a welcomed vision replacing Elena in my head, and all I want to do is kiss her. The pureness that is Anastasia. _What is wrong with me? _My lifestyle – the subs, the contracts, the pain, it suddenly no longer appeals to me. _Is that possible?_

And for what? All because of the tiny beauty next to me, contending for my fictional heart? How can she possibly want me knowing nothing about me? Worse, what will happen when she _does_ know me?

In yet another pathetic spectacle of what little control I have, I kiss her wantonly, hoping to forget who I am. The selfish fuck that is me. She can make me forget. She has to. I am shaking and trembling, and my nerves are shot to hell at how quickly I've gone from dismissing her to wanting her. I'm so fucking confused. Whimpering into her mouth like a fucking child, she doesn't stop me. She holds me tenderly in her little arms, against her little body, telling me through her kisses that everything will be okay. _But it won't be okay._

Ana holds me tighter; kisses me deeper. I feel her tears lamenting my sorrow and her own confusion, and I come undone. How can she feel these things for me? I am a monster; a cruel, nasty excuse for a person. If she only knew who I really was, her beautiful heart wouldn't be crying for me. But it is, and I hate myself for putting her through all of this. I cannot fix her once I break her.

And I will break her once she knows who I really am.

_What have I done?_

When her kisses slow, and she pulls away just far enough to breath, I realize she too is trembling. We are too wound up, too many thoughts and emotions bombarding us that neither of us knows what to do.

I feel resigned. Saddened.

_I wish she would just leave._

"Talk to me." Her sweet voice murmurs in the suffocating silence surrounding us. I shake my head, not even bothering to look at her. In my mind, I'm already contemplating how to make her go.

_You fucking bastard. You disgusting piece of shit. Are you happy now?_

I stare at her blankly, unwilling to give anything away. Why can't she just keep her nose out of my fucking business? Why can't she just trust that I know what's best for her, and what's best is that she knows nothing at all? I broaden my shoulders, taking my Dom stance with her. _Will it even work? _She needs to know who has the power here, and that we are no longer going to discuss this. She will know nothing.

"You can't just fuck me then tell me nothing about you! I deserve to know!" She hisses angrily, throwing the blanket to the ground crossly. Her tears are gone, replaced by the heated curl of her lips and her pointedly narrowed eyes fixed on me.

_Apparently not._

"Why do you have to know _that?_ I'll tell you anything else, but that. Back off, already." My mood is quickly turning south, and I know the man I've tried to hide from Ana is rapidly threatening to break free from its chains. _Ironic_. It's darkly laughable what a pussy I am around her.

"I just want to know you! Is that such a crime? Is that such a horrible thing to ask? We all have issues and pasts and things we'd like to forget. I'm not saying you have to tell me your fucking life story, just don't push me aside like I mean nothing. That fucking _hurts_, you asshole!"

I stare open-mouth at the hostility coming from my sweet Ana. Who the fuck is this person? I can't recall another time where I've been as shocked as I am in this moment. We continue our pathetic staring contest, but her refusal to back down maddens me.

"Fine! What the fuck do you want to know?" I bark back.

"Well not what that attitude!" She says flippantly and it's most irritable. _Are you fucking kidding me?_

The tension in the room is palpable, yet it's nothing like the exciting sexual kind that seems to permeate around us when we're together. Instead, it's the kind that makes me want to take her over my knee and smack the shit out of her until she's learnt her lesson.

_And that's why you have to end this. Now._

I take a deep breath. Then another. And once more just to be sure. "Should I take you home? I think-"

"I'm not going anywhere." She states stubbornly. "I don't care what you say, you can't make me leave."

"This is my house." I remark dryly.

"So." And I'm suddenly hit with the urge to laugh. _So? That's her response?_

"Ana, maybe this was a mistake. Maybe we should just stop this now before we go any further…" I start, and I'm horrified yet relieved that the words are now out. I expect her to cry, sob, scream…

…but nothing.

That damned silence is back, and I risk looking at her. Her eyes are narrowed, lips pursed. She looks annoyed, irritated…exasperated? Crossing her arms over her chest, she lets out a huff. We stare each other down, willing the other to break first. _Infuriating woman._

"I can have Taylor take you hom-"

"I'm not going _anywhere!_" She screams abruptly, before standing up and stomping up the stairs. I hear the door slam – _to my room? – _and she's gone. Slowly sitting up, I relay what the hell just happened.

One minute we're kissing, the next we're not. Then, mercurial as ever, she's throwing a tantrum and swearing up a fucking storm like a petulant child locking herself away in _my _bedroom.

Maybe she's just as crazy as I am, I muse.

* * *

I give her some time upstairs, enough for the both of us to calm down. Too much has happened in too short of a time, and my head is reeling with muddled thoughts and feelings.

_Feelings._ I've never had those before; but now, somehow, Ana has made me _feel_. And I don't like it. It's too foreign, too unknown, _too_ _much_. I'm so fucking rattled I can't even begin to form a coherent thought. Do I force her to leave? How do I make her stay?

I pace the great room, raking my fingers through my hair. Will I ever be able to do that again without thinking of Ana's pretty little fingers tugging on it? I shake my head; now is not the time.

I pull out my phone – but for what? Quickly skimming my emails for anything work related, it seems my far too competent team is doing just fine without me. Oddly enough, that just angers me more. There are a few emails from my mom and Mia – shit, another party. I avoid those ones and hope that I can ignore them long enough that they either forget, or it's too late for me to go.

Surprisingly, though not, there's also an email from Elena wanting to go for lunch this week. _Fuck if that's going to happen._ I delete it immediately without reading past the subject line. Despite all the confusion going on in my head at the moment, the last thing I need is her influence. Of that I'm certain. There's no doubt in my mind she would willingly take this opportunity to fuck with my head for her own twisted pleasure. Knowing her as well as I do I know she would greedily take this sign of weakness to rip me apart for being with a girl like Ana, and that thought, the thought that anyone could or would say anything nasty about my sweet Anastasia, has my blood boiling to a violent smoulder.

As that thought swirls around in my mind, I realize that's a first; Elena has always been a vital person in my life. Our lives are too connected and in our own sick way, we're good for each other. At least I thought we were. But seeing the person that I am with Ana, compared to who I am with Elena, everything about our warped ongoing relationship is now so flawed, so volatile. Despite ending our physical relationship years ago, we've continued to impart our support for the other. But once again, Ana has a way of swooping into my private and carefully protected world and tears through the walls, the guards, the barriers and I don't know if I'm okay with that. Suddenly I'm faced with choosing between the two women. The darkness and my light. The devil and my sweet angel.

This can't be happening.

Looking at the clock, I realize how late it's gotten. The last few hours since breakfast we have done nothing but lay in each other's arms, talk, and fight. _How very domestic._ Knowing I can't put this off any longer, I slowly climb the stairs and knock on my bedroom door. There's no answer, so when I slowly open the door, I'm surprised at what I see.

Ana is curled up in my bed, wearing an old t-shirt of mine, asleep. I approach her carefully, and my stomach drops at the tear stains marring her face. I have no doubt she must've cried herself to sleep, and that thought pains me more than I'd care to admit.

I watch her sleep: her slow shallow breaths, the way her one hand cups her cheek as she lies on her side, the curl of her body making her appear smaller. I curse myself – why can't I just be what she wants me to be? Why can't I just be a normal person, with normal thoughts, and normal feelings? _Why do I have this urge to beat the shit out of women during sex?_

I continue watching her sleep, lying on the bed behind her, not touching her. I'm selfish on top of everything else, and I just can't keep myself away. If this is the last time I see her, I don't want to spend our last few minutes apart.

* * *

When I wake up after somehow falling asleep – _I never sleep_ – I see my hand in hers, our fingers intertwined. Her hand looks so small in mine, yet fits so perfectly. Hesitantly I raise my gaze to see her watching me.

She gives me a sad smile, before looking down at our clasped hands.

"I'm sorry for yelling at you earlier." She whispers. "You can have Taylor take me home now." She sighs dejectedly, moving to get off the bed. "Or I can probably have Kate come get me if that would be better." She's looking around for her things, gathering them as she goes, walking towards the bathroom. "I'm sorry for everything." She laments one last time before shutting the door behind her.

_Isn't this what you wanted?_

I stare at the empty space on the bed next to me: the crinkled sheets, the tiny imprint from her body and the smell of her still lingers. It hits me just how alone I feel in that bed; running my hand over the empty space, it's still warm. If I just close my eyes, I can pretend like she's still there.

My eyes bolt open when I hear the door click and the light from the en-suite floods the room. She's put on the same clothes from last night, her hair pulled into a messy ponytail. Her eyes are freshly reddened, cheeks flushed and lips pouty. _Fuck, she's been crying again_. She avoids looking at me as she walks downstairs, her shoulders hunched and shaking. I follow her like a puppy dog, and she heads straight for the elevator. I haven't even called Taylor yet.

"Ana, wait. Let me get Taylor for you." But even before I finish my sentence, she's already shaking her head.

"No, I just want to go home. I can't be here anymore."

"How will you get home?"

"Don't worry about me. I'll be fine." And I would believe her if she didn't just look like she'd received the worst news of her life. She makes no attempts to stop the tears from falling; there's too much to stop. We stand there waiting for the elevator – it never takes this long – until we both jump at the _ping_. "Goodbye Christian." She whispers, and it's the last time I hear her sweet, angelic voice.

* * *

My mind is begging, screaming for her to just _stop and wait_, but I don't hear the words. Instead, I'm stuck, unable to move or speak, watching her leave. She covers her face as soon as she steps into the elevator, and before the doors fully close I hear her sobs as she cries anew.

_She's gone._

The thought hits me in the gut and I feel winded, beaten…_hurt._

The apartment is suddenly too quiet, too lonely. There's no sweet chatter coming from her pink lips. There's no shuffling of feet indicating someone else's presence here but my own. There's nothing here…and I'm such a goddamn _piece of shit_ that this is what I deserve. This is who I am. I was never meant to have the Ana's of the world. Women like her…rare and precious, should never know men like me. Where is the justice in the world if girls like her can so easily get destroyed by disgusting, vile people like myself? There should be rules, separations, physical barriers keeping the likes of me away from the likes of her.

I want to run after her, chase her down the street and make her understand that this is for her own good. That even though she may be crying now, she shouldn't be. She's wasting her time and tears on someone so undeserving of them, and it makes me physically ill thinking that. Just knowing how terrible I am, how worthless I truly am is such a painful reality. I've always felt that way, but in the few prized moments I had with her I wondered if maybe that could change. If just for once in my life, I wouldn't have to feel so unwanted, so rejected.

My own mother didn't want me, how would I ever come to trust anyone else would?

* * *

I sit defeated on the couch, the same couch only hours ago where we were lying wrapped up in each other. I have the sudden urge to just _cry_, but I will myself not to. How pathetic have I become in such a short period of time? Was I honestly delusional enough to believe that I could be so easily healed in one night? That all it would take to cure me would be a naïve, innocent girl to look at me and tell me words she can't possibly keep?

_No one will ever hurt you again. I won't let them._

I had so desperately wanted to believe her, trust her, put my faith in her. I'm not naïve to think that what we had was nothing. Or that it could be something. We're stuck in this subspace both wanting this, each other, but not knowing how to be together.

How can I tell her anything about myself when everything about my life is humiliating and dishonorable? The shame I feel when I think about living in such poverty, such filth and squalor with the crack whore is suffocating. The memories of Elena's cold and scathing touch as she controlled me and used me, and in turn how I used those same measures to control and use other women for my own pleasure. How would I ever explain my desire to beat and punish so I could get off on it?

She may want to protect me, heal me, save me – but the fact is she should be protecting herself. She doesn't know it yet, but pushing her away, making her _go_, is the kindest thing I could ever do for her.

* * *

**A/N:** This chapter was too temperamental for me to deal with anymore. I'm not all that pleased with it as I couldn't get it to read quite right, but I want to move on with the story. Hopefully it wasn't _too_ blah. Thank you for all the reviews/favorites/follows! Reviews are greatly appreciated!


	10. Mourning

**A/N:** Apologies for the delayed update, I know I promised some of you a new chapter last week. In my defense, this chapter was originally 3,000+ words at final draft, but managed to grow to 7,000+ words. Consider it two chapters in one ;)

* * *

**CHAPTER 10 - MOURNING**

_I've made up my mind, don't need to think it over  
If I'm wrong, I am right, don't need to look no further  
This ain't lust, I know, this is love_

_But, if I tell the world, I'll never say enough  
'cause it was not said to you  
And that's exactly what I need to do  
If I end up with you_

_Should I give up,  
Or should I just keep chasing pavements?  
Even if it leads nowhere._

_-Chasing Pavements (Adele)-_

* * *

**(APOV)**

From the bathroom, I call Kate to come pick me up once I'm able to stop crying long enough to get the words out. I could tell she was upset; being as protective as she is, I knew she was angry. Really angry. Angry at him for hurting me, regardless of how or why. I couldn't find the strength to tell her everything that happened or talk her down from wanting to storm up Escala and let Christian have a piece of her mind; I had no strength at all. I felt defeated, beat up, and thrown out like I meant nothing.

_I felt cheap and used. _

The few seconds it took to get from his bathroom to the elevator had to have been the most excruciating. I couldn't look at him; but I could _feel_ him. I knew he was watching me, wanting to say something…but the words never came out. What had he wanted to say? _Was he sorry? Did he want me to stay? Would I ever see him again? _The wait for the elevator took its damn time as we stood in suffocating stillness, distance and unshared feelings percolating around us. Instead of breaking the solemn silence pushing us apart, the muteness of his words spoke loud and clear: he no longer wanted me. This was him saying goodbye.

Had we really gone from pure, blissful euphoria to broken up in 24 hours?

My mind was spinning at everything I had gained in those few hours, and everything I had lost. I was mourning something that didn't even really exist. We weren't dating; he wasn't my boyfriend. I was merely a one-night stand for him. A notch on his bedpost. A story to tell his buddies.

_Something for him to take._

I have no one to blame but myself. He warned me, but I didn't listen. I let this happen; I could have said no, he asked over and over if this was what I wanted…and it had been. But I just don't understand why he thinks he needs to push me away. Why does he think I'd be better off without him? When we're together…its fireworks. _Magic._ He's sweet and thoughtful; inquisitive and clever; tender and passionate. That wasn't _just_ sex. I may not have any reference to compare it to, but it wasn't just an act of pleasure. He worshiped me; not just my body, but _me_, taking his time to make me feel precious and valued. It wasn't about him or his needs; everything he did was for me.

_He had_ _cared. For me._

And that's what makes this hurt the most; knowing we shared a deeper connection beyond just the physical. There was something there – something real, pure, and honest. And just like that, we had lost it.

Reaching the lobby, I see Kate standing anxiously outside on the streets, her sunshine blonde hair blowing effortlessly in the wind. Bursting through the glass doors I'm thankful to see her, taking a small comfort in knowing someone cares for me. A fresh wave of sobs wracks my body before I can stop it, and Kate wraps her arms tightly around me, soothing words whispered on deaf ears. I wail and cry and sob incoherently into her shoulders as she tries to sooth my sadness, but it's useless. Nothing can fix this.

She puts up a fight about wanting to go back up and really letting him have it, but I'm far too exhausted and hurt that I just want to go home. My worsening tears continue into hysteria, and I see the panic in Kate's eyes as she debates between killing Christian and making sure I don't kill myself. Begrudgingly she agrees to take me home, leading me to her car and we're quickly racing through the streets, lights and people passing in a blur. She keeps a tentative eye on me as she drives, but I don't pay her any attention. Closing my eyes with my head against the cool glass, I pray for this to all have been a terrible nightmare. Wishing and hoping that any moment I'll wake up in Christian's arms and we'll make sweet, passionate love over and over again until we both forget our names, this fight, and the fact that the world seems hell-bent on keeping us apart. _We're keeping us apart. _The thought of his body and mine intertwined briefly places a calming balm over my achy heart, but all too quickly the harsh reality of how wrong we seem to be for each other slams into me, the pain returning tenfold.

* * *

Once inside the apartment, I immediately take off the stupid black dress and change into a pair of loose sweat pants and a baggy sweatshirt, ridding myself of the delusion that I could have been the one for Christian Grey. I throw my clutch across the room and glare at the phone hidden inside as if it's him, before storming into the living room where Kate has already prepared me a cup of tea.

And just like that, I'm no longer hurt, but angry. _Really. Fucking. Angry_.

"What the hell happened?" Kate asks as she watches me frantically pace back and forth. Fists balled up and clenched tightly at my side, feet burning a path through the floor, she waits for a response. "You said earlier that everything was fine. What did he do… if he hurt you, so help me Anastasia I will kill that fucker." The icy coldness in her voice is menacing, and I know she means every word of it; especially when she calls me _Anastasia_. I can count on one hand the number of times she's used it, and from past experience I know it's never good.

"I truly don't know, Kate!" I huff in exasperation. "Last night…was the _greatest_ night of my life. It was…he was…we…" My voice wavers, before it's gone. _I've lost my words_. Nothing I say would ever suffice in reciting just how perfect our night was. It feels too intimate for me to share anyways, and I just want to hold it close to my heart, cherish it like he had cherished me. _Had any of that really happened? Am I sure I didn't just dream this up?_

"…and then this morning…God it was so…so…" I shake my head again in frustration. "Everything was perfect; _he_ was perfect. But then all of a sudden we're no longer in each others arms; instead we're fighting and he's telling me he's no good for me. That he's dangerous and I should stay away. It all happened so quickly I don't even know how we got there! I got mad, and then he got mad and I'm screaming and storming out of rooms… Kate it was such a disaster! I don't know what came over me, I was a fucking nightmare! What is wrong with me? Why doesn't he want me?" I sob as I feel the anger leave my body, a treacherous pain replacing it, the dismay of my actions catching up with me. I couldn't control the things coming out of my mouth, too blinded by my own grief to realize what I was doing to him.

Sniffling, I disgustingly wipe my nose on my sleeve. I throw myself onto the couch crying loudly, pulling my knees up to my chest. Squeezing my body tight hoping to lessen the slamming of emotions battering me, my eyes are wide as I stare blankly in front of me. _What am I supposed to do now?_ "I don't know why he thinks he's bad. He has…he has these scars on his chest…" My voice cracks and I feel winded at the memory. I have never seen anything so ugly, so cruel in my entire life. The pain that he must have felt when he got them leaves me gasping for breath. Who could ever torture another human being like that? When did it happen? The scars looked old and from a long time ago, but I don't know if that makes it better or worse. Was he a teenager when he got them, perhaps hanging out with the wrong crowd? Or worse, did he get them as…_a child?_ No, no one would ever do that to a _child… oh god, please no._

"And I don't know what happened, but they were really bad and I think that's why he thinks this about himself. But I just don't understand! It's not his fault that someone did this to him…but he just pushed me away. He said he didn't want to talk about it, and that maybe we were a bad idea." The thought that we were a mistake leaves a bitter taste in my mouth as I scrunch my face up in disgust; I don't even realize I'm crying again until Kate wraps her arms around me and wipes the tears off with her sleeve. The crying turns into wails, heartbroken sounds tumbling out of my mouth. "I kept pushing him to _tell me, tell me, tell me_…and I know I shouldn't have done that but at that point it was just all too much! I was hurt and I felt rejected and I couldn't stop myself from being this awful person forcing him and making him talk to me. I just…I just…I never should have done any of those things and now…I've gone and ruined everything." I lament pitifully, unwilling to accept what I've done. Why couldn't I just leave it alone?

Sitting on the couch, I curl up into her side. She doesn't say anything, which is so unlike her and it unsettles me. Running her fingers through my hair; a mother bear taking care of her cub. It only makes me cry more, wishing my own mother would be as kind as Kate. _Don't go there... _The apartment is quiet save for my own whimperings as Kate rocks me back and forth. Where do we go from here? There probably isn't a _we_ anymore anyways. Of all the times I've ever needed Kate's advice on men, this would be it. Yet, words escape her.

Thoughts jumble and feelings mix to the point I can't comprehend anything around me. Christian, Kate, my mom…I'm confused and I just want the world to _stop_. Everything spins and whirls and thumps loudly in my head, cringing pain washing over my entire body. Is it possible to have a broken heart after only knowing him a few days? Is this what this is? _My first heartbreak?_

I don't know how I manage to fall asleep with the battle of emotions I'm fighting against, but I do. The energy it takes to keep straight the feelings inside of me is debilitating. Kate keeps a vigil eye on me, but she's far too quiet and far too calm for me to feel any sort of comfort. I know she's plotting in her head; of what, I'm just not certain. Before I can stop whatever it is she's conspiring, my heavy eyelids win and darkness swoops over me. The obscurity of not having to deal with it anymore gives me a sickening thought of wishing for an eternity of darkness, but the thought is fleeting. In my sleepy haze I'm aware of the dangerous spiral that train of thought can have for someone like me, but all too soon my mind is subdued enough that sleep takes me.

* * *

I don't know how long I'm out for, but when I wake Kate is eyeing me tentatively. It's well into the night – I must have slept all day – but I can't bring myself to care. It's not until I see Kate with my phone in her hand that I'm immediately angry. Her shifty eyes put me on high alert, and I know I'm not going to like whatever comes out of her mouth next.

"What did you do?" I bite out, snatching the phone from her.

She stares at me inanely, not giving anything away; a glimmer of guilt flits across her green eyes before it's gone. I'm mortified and embarrassed and more than anything, in this moment, I want to kill her. There is only one reason why she would have my phone, and so help me, I will go thermonuclear if she's done what I think she has.

I try to keep my emotions in check, but I can't help but hurl out the words. "What is your problem? What the fuck did you do?"

In my hysteria, my brain's been running on panic mode from everything that has happened to me today. I don't know how to react, how to calm down, _how to anything_. She makes no move to apologize or defend herself, making me angrier. Her silence is maddening and second by second I feel my resolve breaking. The urge to break something, smash something, _do something_ overwhelms me.

"Say something!"

"I couldn't just let him hurt you!" She finally screeches throwing her hands up in defense.

"This is none of your goddamn business Kate!"

"Like hell it's not! You're my best friend and when you come home drenched in your own fucking tears like hell I'm going to do nothing about it! That no-good piece of shit needed to know it was not okay for him to do that! He took advantage of you and took your virginity for fuck's sake. He should be a little more sensitive than to just kick you to the curb like some cheap one-night stand!"

Adrenaline courses through me and my fight-or-flight response kicks in. I'm shaking and trembling as I feel my veins rev up with energy, bouncing erratically inside of me, ready to snap at a moment's notice. I'm livid; beyond angry than I've ever been in my entire life. I feel myself physically leave my body, only to be replaced by a hormone-driven, panic-stricken monster. "You don't know anything!" I cry, pushing her in anger. She thuds against the wall. "You stupid bitch what did you say to him?!"

I've never been so ruthless before, and I'm appalled as soon as the words are out. Immediately I pull my hands away, but the damage has been done. To say we're both surprised is an understatement as our fight temporarily suspends in the air – neither of us believing those words have come out of my mouth. I have never hit or pushed anyone before, and the fact that I just did that to the one person I know will always be there to protect me fills me with insurmountable disgrace.

"_Calm. Down_." She hisses once she's regained herself. She pushes herself off the wall, and I shamefully divert my eyes. What have I become? "I get you're upset, I get that you're hurt and angry-"

"What did you say Katherine?" I screech vehemently. My patience is gone and I can feel the ire bleeding out of me. The familiar sensation of walls closing in on me causes me to panic, but I push down that urge. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. _Why is everyone trying to fucking ruin me today?_

She sighs in defeat. "I wanted to yell at him for hurting you," she starts, but holds up her hand to keep me from interrupting. "I wanted to tell that asshole that it's not okay to treat people like that. That you're too good for someone to just walk all over you without a care of how you would feel. It makes me angry knowing someone did this to you, that someone could be so careless with you. I told him that. I told him he was going to regret ever hurting you; that he doesn't deserve someone like you, and he'll be sorry for ever letting you go.

"I started yelling and screaming at him…but he just…_listened_." She continues, her voice going up in disbelief. "When I was done, he just began apologizing. Fuck Ana, I was expecting him to be mad, indifferent or whatever, but not _that_. I actually felt _sorry_ for the bastard…I swear he sounded like he was going to cry." She sighs as she watches my reaction, her own reaction relaying her surprise. "I was just so upset at what he did to you, you're my best friend and I'm never going to be okay with anyone hurting you," She grabs my hands and squeezes them tightly, "but…listen, I don't know everything that happened, I understand that. And okay, fine, maybe he might have even done what he did to protect you after the fact, but it was still wrong. He should have been honest from the beginning – if he didn't think he was good for you, he never should have led you on. Regardless of his issues, he needs to figure that shit out first before dumping it on you." She shrugs in defeat. "I know I shouldn't have called him or interfered; it wasn't my place to do so. If it's any consolation, he sounded like he was in pretty bad shape, but…I don't know Ana okay! I'm sorry, but I won't say sorry for standing up for you. I think you know me well enough to know I will never put up with that kind of bullshit from you or from anyone. No one will ever put you down again if I can help it. And I would do it all over again if I had to." She finishes, her eyebrow raised, challenging me to refute her. She knows my history, my deepest and darkest secrets, and it pains and humbles me all at once that she continues to be my support no matter how much of a shitty friend I am.

Instead, I nod in my own defeat, her loyalty knowing no bounds when it comes to me. I can't fault her; she will always have my back and I'm thankful for the day we met. But I look at her with resignation, neither us having the fight left to keep this going. I want to know what he said but I'm afraid it will hurt too much. I stand there breathing heavily, trying to absorb her words. I know her intent was in my honor, but I can't accept what she's done. She doesn't know everything that _I_ know about him. I know what I saw; no matter how hard he tries to exude indifference and anger, hidden was how he really felt. In some sense we share that ability: having mastered the art of hiding our emotions. _It takes one to know one_ when it comes to recognizing your own kind: someone scared, hurt, and hiding a past. We both went into this too hard too fast; we were both bound to get hurt. And as angry as I am with him, he didn't deserve Kate's hostile words. Despite everything that has transpired between us, I don't ever want to see him hurt.

"I can't fight anymore. I've done too much fighting today, and my heart hurts and everything hurts and I just want it to be tomorrow okay?" I whimper pathetically, and she nods her head somberly. "I'm sorry for yelling, I'm sorry for everything. But you can't do that ever again, okay? What if we could've been fixed but you just went and ruined all of that? I'll never know – not that I know if that's even what I want – but Kate-"

She holds her hands up in understanding before I can even finish. "I know, and I'm sorry. I won't interfere like that again unless you want me to. I just…I don't know. I _am_ sorry." She reiterates.

I look at her one last time before heading to my room. I don't have anything else to say to her, or to Christian. I wish everyone would just go away. I want to lock myself in my room and never come out ever again. I try not to think like that, knowing it's a dangerous road for me to take, but would it really be so bad? I'm nothing, I know this. This is nothing new. Who was I kidding thinking I could ever amount to being worthy enough for the Christian Greys of the world? It feels as though I've been beaten down and dragged across the floor. If I had just never met Kate, I never would have met Christian, and I never would have known that this kind of pain could exist. I'm no stranger to such dark feelings, but this kind is new to me. To know this kind of loss no matter how little we knew each other is gut-wrenching. We knew _enough_ to feel with every part of our being that we could have been something great, of that I'm certain. He may not know it, but he felt it too. Having reached such a euphoric high only to be struck down crashing below is an unbearable feeling.

I wail into my pillow, hitting and punching and kicking in my bed. I do this until I'm too exhausted to do anything else like think or breathe. With tears ceaselessly falling down my cheeks, I sniffle and sob until I can't stay awake any longer. Away from this wretched world, and away from Christian and his cruel rejection, I fall back into a fitful break from reality.

* * *

**(CPOV)**

She's gone.

_This is what you wanted, isn't it?_

I'm sitting on the couch in the great room, where only hours ago I was lying with the most wonderful girl wrapped up in my arms. We had just _made love_ the night before, and now I'll never see her again.

The image of her walking out leaves me breathless in the worst possible way. I was expecting to feel relieved once she left, but instead, the way I felt…_feel_…it's anything but welcomed. There's an aching, a tugging, a splitting feeling inside of me. _Why is this happening?_

I curl up small on the couch, like Ana had done before, and stare blankly out the glass window. It's getting darker, but I don't realize what time it is. Is it still today? Tomorrow? The day after?

I don't know when it is I fall asleep, but the next thing I know I'm being woken up by the obnoxious sun shining through the apartment. There are too many windows and it's bleary and bright and it makes me livid. "Why are all these fucking windows open?" I snarl as I sit up, throwing the pillows off the couch. "Why is it so fucking bright in here? Is this pleasant for you? Do you like being fucking blinded by that goddamn sun?" I don't realize I'm talking to anyone until I see Taylor and Gail standing in the kitchen. _How long have they been there?_ "What the _fuck_ are you looking at? I don't pay you two to stand around like fucking idiots! Go! Move!"

I see Gail's face pale as she nervously nods her head before disappearing to god knows where. Taylor is less deterred, taking a cautious step towards me.

"Sir." He nods, his arms clasped behind his back. He stands tall, and it makes me angrier.

"Get the fuck out of my face Taylor." I warn, though I don't know what for. Why is he even here? I didn't call him.

"Should I be getting the car ready for work, or would you like to work in your office today?" I stare at him impassively; I don't take orders from anyone, especially the _help._

"Get out of my face." I sneer once more before storming to my office. Fuck Taylor. Fuck Gail. Fuck work.

_Fuck!_

* * *

Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday. They all pass in a blur. I must've fired Taylor at least 100 times this past week, but the fucker keeps showing up each day. He normally doesn't interfere in my life – he knows better by now, but he knows this isn't normal behaviour for me. If I didn't know any better I'd actually think the poor fuck was worried about me. _Pussy._

My anger has reached an all-time high, and no fucker is immune from my tyranny. I stop by the office for a few hours each day but I don't stay. I'm too wound up and too fucking on edge that everyone around me actively avoids me. Even the staff who relentlessly try to flirt and fawn at me have taken a step back. There's a sense of dread as I walk into the building – dread of _me_ and it makes me laugh bitterly. Good. If I'm miserable, so help me, everyone else is going to be too.

I'm livid that Ana left and even more so that she refuses to return any of my calls. I've done nothing but constantly bombard her with messages since she walked out on me…but nothing. Radio silence.

I suppose this _is_ what I asked for. But now I take it back. I take it all back. I'm miserable, and all I want is Ana. _My Ana_.

How have I ended up here? How am I that guy pining for the girl? I can't think without her – I haven't eaten, slept, or worked since she left. I don't know who to direct my hurt and anger towards. I snap at everyone around me – my staff, people on the street, anyone and everyone. I've avoided my family knowing they'd see immediately how bad of shape I'm in over all of this. I'm humiliated enough without their prying eyes. Why can't I just go back to being me; the callous, cold, and solitary man locked up in the clouds? I've gotten by just fine without needing anyone before, why start now?

I have too much pent up tension and fury that I relish in beating the shit out of Bastille during our extended sessions. I've seen him more these past few days than I probably have all month despite our regular appointments. Though my head isn't fully in it, and I end up on my ass more times than not, it's a release I welcome. The slamming of bodies to the ground is sickeningly comforting. I find myself enjoying a little too much the physicality of it all: hitting, punching, and kicking. Bastille has already warned me too many times I'm getting too aggressive, beyond that of friendly competitive sparring, but I don't give a fuck. I've worked with him long enough that he knows when I'm losing control and he knows better to keep me on track before I beat the shit out of him for real.

Each session finishes with my body trembling and aching painfully, but I don't care. It's a welcomed respite from the ache I feel in my chest, and I'd give anything to feel anything but _that._ Whatever it'll take to forget her, I'll do it.

Once I've finished sparring with Bastille, I head back to Escala to my private gym and continue to expend my treacherous energy by running at a grueling pace on the treadmill for hours before I finally collapse from fatigue. Only then do I force myself to stop and breathe; my thoughts finally able to catch up with me. It provides me with just enough of a break from my mind traitorously turning back towards thoughts of Ana. But by this point, I'm too far past the point of exhaustion that I can't think at all.

* * *

Friday morning I awake startled. I'm still at the gym, lying in the middle of the room like a pathetic drunk collapsed out on the street. Where is Taylor? Shouldn't he be concerned about me? Does he know I'm even here?

I'm about to go on another tirade and fire his ass once more when I see a breakfast platter near the door. _So my staff _do _know I'm here. And alive._ At least that's something.

I sigh in defeat. These past few days have taken a severe toll on me in every possible way. And if I'm being honest with myself for the first time in days, I realize just how _upset_ I am. I'm devastated with what happened with Ana – the way I treated her, the way I just let her go. I should have done more; I should have tried harder to make her stay. What kind of an idiot am I to let her just leave?

She's come to mean so much more to me than I could have ever imagined anyone meaning to me. She left my life just as quickly as she came into it, and I'm mourning that terrible loss. I know I should've seen Flynn at some point during this week but I was too adamant, too stubborn to call him. I was determined that I could handle this myself – I would get over Ana on my own and he'd never have to know about my temporary bout of insanity.

_Yeah, lying to your therapist, that's helpful._

I eat my breakfast in solitude. The muted silence around me is welcomed. For the first time in days, there isn't angry screaming going on inside of my head. Instead, there's an eerie calm that suddenly washes over me, and I let out an anxious breath. There's no Elena, no crack whore, no pimp telling me I'm nothing. There's no screaming or crying, _either me or them, _or someone telling me what a fucked up nobody I am.

Instead, there's the soft murmur of Ana's voice, telling me I'm _good._ I'm _not_ nobody. And that maybe, _just maybe,_ I stand a chance with her if I can just get my shit together and show her how much she means to me.

A slow and timid calmness seeps into my body as I think about the bewitching Anastasia Steele. _Only she can calm me. _If I think hard enough I can still imagine the sweet upturn of her lips as she smiles, the bright blue pools of her eyes. If I try hard enough I can still feel her arms wrapped around me, the softness of her hair against my cheek. I can still hear the last words she said to me ringing in my head – _goodbye Christian – _and the sadness she carried in those words. I hate knowing I'm the cause for all of this – her sadness and mine. If I'm ever to make this right, I need to take a hard look in the mirror and figure out what the fuck it is I want, and what am I willing to do to get it. To get her.

_God, I miss her._

* * *

After breakfast, I decide to make a plan. I've decided I must fix this. Ana deserves someone worthy of her time and affection, and at the moment that sure as fuck isn't me, as much as I want it to be. I need some gesture to show her that I can be good enough; that I deserve a second chance from her.

Enjoying the newfound seclusion I feel being alone in this room, I remain seated on the gym floor. I know Taylor must be watching the CCTV making sure I haven't hung myself in here, but I like the fact that he's not _here_, and I can be alone with my thoughts.

Sitting there, I realize I've never had to prove myself in this capacity before. I've conquered the business world before I've turned 30, and I'm skillfully trained in most things – sports, music, women, gliding, flying; you name it, I'm fucking great at it. _Arrogant bastard. _But dating, courting, impressing another person…I'm at a complete loss. How do I let Ana know that I want a second chance? That I want to give _us_ a try? I can't very well demand that she give me one…_can I?_ If only she had a damn submissive bone in her body then perhaps…but that girl is anything but submissive. She would laugh in my face if I ordered her to take me back, and I would let her. It's _because_ of that smart-mouth that I enjoy her so much; she's not afraid to put me in my place, regardless of who I am to her or anyone else. In a sense I am a nobody to her, but in the nicest way. That thought makes me smile; to her, I'm regular. Normal. Just like everyone else.

I don't know how long I sit there for, it has to have been hours as I stand and my muscles ache from sitting in one place too long, but I realize how completely out of my depth I am when it comes to this. No amount of money or education can help me with this. I don't know anything about pursuing a girl…how the fuck am I supposed to know what she'll like? Can I hire someone to figure this out for me? I wonder if Andrea would know anything; she's a girl, she must have some idea of what it is girls want from potential…suitors? Boyfriends? Is that what I would become to Ana if this went according to plan? _Her boyfriend?_

My heartbeat quickens at the idea – but I don't know if it's a good quickening, or a bad quickening. It unsettles me, but I push the feeling down. _Concentrate Grey!_

I decide that I need outsider help. This is beyond the scope of anything I know, but who could I ask? I'm embarrassed enough as is; I dread the idea of having to ask Mia, or worse, Elliot, tips on how to impress a girl. Taylor was married once; maybe he would know a thing or two. I could probably have Welch look into her, perhaps find out her interests for me? _That's probably something you should be figuring out on your own… _

Walking into the kitchen, I smile as I see Gail there. She's a woman, certainly she would have an idea. Plus, she understands my need for privacy and discretion, so I trust she won't go blabbing to anyone about my unusual request for guidance. She looks at me startled – either that I'm still alive, or the fact that I'm _smiling_ at her.

"Mr. Grey, is there anything I can get for you?" She asks hesitantly, no doubt on edge from all my adolescent tantrums I've thrown these past few days. She has the patience of a saint when it comes to putting up with my bullshit, but I've been particularly awful these last few days that I make a mental note to give her a few days off once I get my own shit figured out. I'd hate for her to go running after all these years.

"Advice, actually." I reply coolly, though I can already feel the heat of embarrassment burning at my collar.

She raises her eyebrow, but doesn't say anything.

"Anastasia, Miss Steele has…left me. I screwed up, but I would like a second chance." I try to say it with my best poker-face on, but I'm nervous and anxious that this is irreparable. _What if she simply doesn't want me anymore? Then what?_

"I see." She replies, mulling over the surprising words coming out of my mouth. "In what way can I help?"

"I need to know what to do." I say point-blank.

"Have you tried calling her? Or visiting her?"

"Of course I've called." I snap, but quickly rein it in as her eyes widen. She's just as nervous as I am but for different reasons.

She nods her head thoughtfully. "May I ask what happened? Not the details, but enough to know why she left? Maybe then we can figure out a way how to fix it."

"She wanted to know me, and I said no."

Gail stares at me, her lips pursed. I know she has a vague idea of the type of women I normally bring home, so she undoubtedly was surprised when she saw Ana here, on a weekday no less, and nothing like the women I'm used to. Gail is never at Escala during the weekends when I have subs, but I have no doubt Gail saw in Ana what I saw that first night – her kindness and innocence. And just how wonderfully different she is from anything in my life. She doesn't fit anywhere, yet she's exactly what I need to feel at home.

"Permission to speak freely, Mr. Grey." She prefaces, and I nod. "From my understanding, Miss Steele was wanting to be closer to you, understand you, and you turned her down? Do you not want her to get close to you? I think maybe if you outline the terms of the kind of _relationship_ you want from her-"

I cut her off knowing already where she's going with this. She thinks I want Ana to be my sub but she's getting too attached. The truth, however, is that I _don't_ want her to be my sub, and _I'm_ the one getting attached. _What a novel thought._

"I don't want _that_ kind of relationship with Ana." I start. "I want…I want a _normal_ relationship, whatever that is. I want to get to know her, I do, but…I'm afraid to let her get to know me because…well, isn't it obvious?" I state rhetorically, but to my surprise Gail answers.

"It's not." She says gently. "Why _not_ let her get to know you? If a relationship, a romantic relationship is what you both are wanting, you're going to have to know things about each other or else there's no point. Relationships work two ways – you have to give and receive if there's to be any hope. Does Miss Steele know _anything_ about you?"

I nod. "She's aware of my…scars. She knows that I have them."

"Have you discussed your… lifestyle with her?"

I shake my head. "That's just it. No. I don't want to have with her what I've had with those other women."

The briefest of smiles graces her face, before she returns it back to a more neutral expression. "Well then, I think if it's a _normal_ romantic relationship you're seeking with Miss Steele, you're going to have to let her know that. Let her know that it's not just about your physical attraction to one another. And that you're willing to share and open up to her if it means trying. Court her – flowers, chocolates – some sort of expression of yourself or a gesture to let her know that you're interested in her. You need to do something to get her attention, so she can understand your willingness to do whatever it takes to be with her."

Pondering what Gail has shared, I'm surprised. I've never thought about her as being a romantic, but then again I make no effort to get to know my staff. I don't like blurring of professional boundaries, yet somehow, Ana is still managing to thwart my control over my own life. I shake my head ruefully.

But unlike all the other times before, I find myself _not_ minding, because it's Ana. Ana's the reason I've stepped out of my comfort zone to pursue her, ask for help, and to better myself. And if giving up some of my control means I get to kiss her lips and hold her in my arms and hear her sweet voice tell me things I never knew I wanted to hear, then so help me, she can have all the control that she wants.

I'm ready to lose control if it means I'll gain the one thing I could never manage to get my hands on – a chance at happiness.

She is my happiness.

* * *

**A/N:** Thank you for all the reviews/favorites/follows! Reviews are greatly appreciated!

I've also started a board on Pinterest to go along with the story for your perusal (search Pinners: PurpleAle) :)


	11. Truths and Honesty, Part I

**CHAPTER 11 – TRUTHS AND HONESTY, PART I**

_My pride, my ego, my needs, and my selfish ways  
Caused a good strong woman like you to walk out my life  
Now I never, never get to clean up the mess I made  
And it haunts me every time I close my eyes_

_Although it hurts, I'll be the first to say that I was wrong  
Oh, I know I'm probably much too late  
To try and apologize for my mistakes  
But I just want you to know_

_-When I Was Your Man (Bruno Mars)-_

* * *

**(CPOV)**

***Flashback***

_"You piece of shit."_

_I stare at my phone, confused. "Excuse me? Ana?" I look at the caller ID again, frowning. This most certainly is not her; I would know her voice anywhere._

_"It's Kate Kavanaugh, her best friend. How dare you, you douchebag!" Ah, Miss Kavanaugh._

_"Why are you calling me?" I'm quickly irritated. Does this woman have no manners? I would think someone of her means and background would have more decorum than to greet someone like _that_._

_"What did you do to her? How could you! Do you have any idea what you've done? What kind of person does that! Ana is the sweetest, kindest person in the entire world and you just threw her aside like some cheap whore! How could you be such a fucking asshole?"_

_The shrill cry of her voice makes me wince. I'm feeling shitty enough as is, the last thing I need is for someone else to tell me how shitty I am. I already know. But not only is she annoying, she's right. There's nothing I can say to defend the way I've acted; what's done is done. Ana has left, and there really isn't anywhere left for us to go. We're simply not right for each other._

_"Do you think it's okay to just fuck any girl you want without caring about how she might feel? You may be able to get away with that with other girls, but not Ana. You have no fucking idea who you're messing with! Ana may not have the heart to confront you, but I refuse to let anyone tear her down and treat her like she's nothing. Do you have any idea what her life has been like? She doesn't need shit bags like you coming into her life and ruining it all over again. I should've known this would happen. Guys like you are worthless, shitty people. You take whatever you want and feel entitled to everything. Well, let me tell you, asshole, Ana is not something for you to take. She is a goddamn person with feelings and she deserves to be with someone who won't treat her like shit. Of all the guys she could've had, she chose you and it was the biggest mistake of her fucking life. I_ won't_ let her make that same mistake twice. You deserve to have your fucking balls cut off for what you did to her. If I ever see you, so help me, I will rip them off myself. You're a pathetic excuse, nothing more than a _boy_ and I hope you regret the day you ever decided to hurt my best friend. Don't come crawling back to her when you realize just how badly you fucked up. You just lost the greatest girl you'll ever meet; I hope you're proud of yourself, fucker." _

_Despite her ill-manners, I have nothing to say. What _can_ I say? I can't deny anything she's said; I _am _unworthy, undeserving, and a loathsome excuse of a man. A pathetic _boy_. She continues to berate me, curse me, tear me apart with her words; and I take every last syllable, nuance, and finely crafted insult. It's what I deserve. It's the least of what I deserve._

_I replay Ana walking out on me, like a somber song droning repeatedly in my head, a dark reminder of what I've done. A pain deep within my chest throbs and I don't know how to deal with it. Selfishly, I want Kate to just _shut the fuck up_ already. I get it; I fucked up. And I'll probably regret it for the rest of my goddamn life because she's right: Ana was, _is_, the greatest thing to come into my life and I messed it up. Just thinking about the way she left – eyes red and puffy from her tears, the shaking of her small frame from her painfully sad cries, makes _me_ want to cry. I'm so fucking angry with myself. What the fuck is wrong with me?_

_I don't know how much more I can take. I feel like a fucking child as I try to keep it together. Ana deserves so much better than me, that's something both Kate and I are in agreement of. There are no words that I could say to her or to Kate that could possibly justify or amend what I've done. I apologize, and apologize, and apologize some more._

_I'm sorry…I don't know what to say…I messed up…I'm sorry…She's better off without me…She'll move on…She deserves so much more…She deserves better... I'm sorry…What can I say?.. I'm sorry... I'm sorry... I'm sorry._

_The deafening click of the phone puts an effective end to my apologies. She doesn't say goodbye; she doesn't offer me comfort or acknowledge my atonement. I don't even know if she's heard my pleas for her to understand that I know how atrociously I've treated Ana and that I deserve to pay for my actions. That Ana will be vindicated by my suffering on her behalf, and I will never be able to rectify what I've done, what I've taken, or how much I've hurt her. Even if I apologize until the end of time, using all the words ever written or spoken to show just how sorry I am, it still wouldn't be enough. Nothing will ever be enough._

_Tactlessly, I pushed away someone who cared for me, because I was scared. Fucking terrified. The pathetic irony of that reality is not lost on me. For all my fears and issues of being abandoned, _I_ needed to be the one to do it first. I couldn't give her the chance to abandon me; I wouldn't survive. I wouldn't be able to handle that again. Never again will someone abandon me, I won't let them._

_Staring blankly as 'end' blinks on my phone, I watch in disdain as her name disappears from my screen. And just like that, she's left me again. _

***End of Flashback***

* * *

**(APOV – Present Day)**

The past few days have come and gone, but the ache in my chest remains. My phone has been going off non-stop since I left Christian's apartment, but I don't have the heart to call him back. I've ignored reading or listening to any of his messages – I just don't know what to do. He doesn't want me in his life; why does he keep trying to drag me back?

I've spent the last few days in Kate's hideous pink flannel pajamas reserved only for break-ups, and I admit it has brought me some relief. They're soft and comfortable, and so fucking pink it's enough to distract me. I haven't eaten or slept much, I just lay there, but Kate has kept a constant supply of wine and ice cream stocked in my room so I'm at least consuming some calories. Other than a few trips to the bathroom I haven't left my mess of a bed, piled high with blankets and pillows, for days.

Ever since our colossal fight the day Kate picked me up from Christian's, she's gone into mother-mode. I think she's afraid I might off myself, which is absurd, yet comforting at the same time. No matter how awful I am to her, she'll continue to stand by my side. But she's too attentive that I'm starting to go out of my mind with her smothering me. We talk a bit about how I'm feeling – losing Christian and apparently the loss of my dignity as I wallow away in my bed, but the answer remains the same. _I don't know how I feel_. I bounce back between angry and hurt, wanting him and not wanting him.

It's been three days of playing host to my pity party for one. My room is dark with the curtains drawn, and grossly filled with still-full take-out boxes and empty bottles of wine. Finally, Kate tells me she's had enough as she opens a window, and I inhale deeply as fresh air breathes into the four walls of my room. _Huh, that actually feels nice._

"Enough. This room is disgusting, and I'm afraid this is going to turn into a terrible cross-over episode of Hoarders and Intervention if I let you keep on this way. You need to get out of bed and take a fucking shower. This isn't college midterms week anymore, you can't not shower and think no one will notice how fucking disgusting your hair is. And you need to eat solid food. Something that doesn't have an alcohol percentage. Jesus Ana, I love you, but seriously?" She wrinkles her nose as she brushes a greasy strand of hair off my forehead.

"I never said anything when _you_ broke up with your _boyfriends_." I sneer in annoyance. "I let you do whatever you wanted because I was your _friend_, I would hope you would do me the say courtesy." I whine, pushing her hands away as she tries to tame my unruly hair.

"I don't care. You can't stay in your room like this, Ana you have to get out. You know this isn't good for you. Should I call someone? Should I call Ray-"

"No!" I immediately sit up, anxious that she'll actually call him. As much as I love him, my dad is the last person I would want knowing what I'm going through; he doesn't need to know I haven't left my room for days because I've become a cliché. That the man I gave my virginity to doesn't want me anymore. _Pump and dump. Hit and run_.

"Ana, you know you can't do this forever. I know it's only been a few days, but…well…_you know_…" She trails off uncomfortably, both of us aware of what she's hinting at.

I groan in annoyance. This is nothing like _that._ Yes, I may be upset, I may be hurt, but I'm not at the point of…_that._

"Ana, I'm so out of my depth here. You really need to start eating real food again, and you have to get out of the house. I just don't want you to backslide or relapse or whatever it's called. You're past that part of your life, I just don't want to see you back there." She tries to coax as gently as possible. "I also think…I think you should call him."

"Ray?"

"Christian."

My jaw hits the floor. That's the last name I would ever think of hearing come out of Kate's mouth. She rolls her eyes at my shock and stunned silence, but stands her ground.

"I've thought about it, and yes, he's an asshole. That will never change. But I think for the both of you, you need to have at least one last conversation to move past this. I'm not saying take him back. Because fuck, you shouldn't. But you're not going to be okay until you get that closure, until he tells you why he was such a dick and that he's sorry. He needs to apologize to you."

I know she will always take my side no matter what, but when she tells me just how hurt he sounded that day she called him, she thinks it might be worth it if I called him. If not for him, but for me. A chance to say a proper goodbye.

I continue to lie in my bed, pondering Kate's words once she's left with a bag full of garbage. I can actually see the floor again, and the nauseating smell of old take-out no longer lingers, fresh air circulating throughout. _Should _I call him? It's been three days. Is that enough time for the both of us? I don't want to yell or scream or fight. I just don't have the energy to do so. I just want to _talk._ I just want to hear his voice one last time, see his face and look into his eyes. I know he's sorry; but it doesn't change the fact of what he did. He hurt me after I promised to never let anyone hurt him again. I still don't understand why he is the way he is, but I hope for his sake that he can conquer whatever demons live inside of him. He's a good man, despite what he or Kate thinks, and I only wish the best for him. I don't want either of us to hurt anymore.

I make a final decision to heed her advice. I can think of a million reasons why _not_ to call him, but in the end, there's only one reason why I should. He made love to me, and it meant something to me. _He means something to me._ And it's for that reason, regardless of us being nothing more than two people having shared a beautiful night together, that I want to do this. I want to tell him I don't hate him. I just don't want to be angry and bitter for the rest of my life. I want to accept what's happened; cherishing the memories we made together, and move on.

Regardless of how much I miss him at times, as ridiculous as it may seem because we are very much still strangers to each other, I can't help the feeling that at one point we seemed perfect for each other. If having one last conversation with him is what I need to push that feeling away for good, then it's something I just have to do.

I feel myself coming out of the dark hole I've buried myself under, and take a welcoming breath. I've come too far to fall back under, and I won't let it pull me back. If closure from Christian is what I need to get my life back on track, then I'll swallow the fear and pain I know awaits me from confronting him.

* * *

It's almost 5 o'clock in the evening by the time I've managed to pull myself out of the vortex of my room. I'm showered and dressed out of the breakup pajamas, _normal pajamas count as being dressed_, and make my way to the kitchen. _Baby steps. _Kate has a take-out menu in hand and grins up at me as I take a seat across from her at the kitchen island.

"Look who decided to shower." She smiles in approval. "And you smell nice too. Want dinner? I was thinking either pizza or Chinese." She fans out the menus for me and I take a quick glance. I haven't eaten much in days, but I'm suddenly famished as I stare at each menu. We decide on pizza and wings and Kate calls in the order.

Sitting on the couch, I pull a blanket around me and grab the remote. Flipping through the channels, I'm disappointed to see nothing but the news and old-reruns. _Where are the infomercials or tacky reality shows when you need them? _I could really use the distraction.

Waiting for our food, we set up the dinner table with a shabby red plaid tablecloth, set out some candles, and put on some Taylor Swift. Throughout college we often would set aside a date night for each other once a week; it was more so because Kate felt bad that I never went on any dates, and she went on too many. She tells me I have to change; I can't show up to our date without being dressed, but I refuse. I refrain from making a cheeky comment about showing up naked for a free meal and putting out, but I feel my timing might be off. _Too soon_.

She rolls her eyes, but leaves it at that. "I'm glad I have my roommate back. That other girl was depressing."

"I'm going to call him." I say in between commercials, running my finger along the screen of my phone. "After dinner."

"What are you going to say?"

"I don't know. I just…I just want to see him one more time. I don't want this hanging over me, wondering why he did it, why this had to happen this way. I want him to apologize; I deserve at least that. But other than that, I just want to put this behind me. Move on."

She nods in support, telling me this is the right thing to do. She's already planning a celebratory night out; in her words, to _banish that fucker from my life_. I won't sulk around for Christian Grey anymore. If he doesn't want me, then fine. It's his loss, not mine.

* * *

Once our dinner arrives, Kate and I are down one and a half bottles of wine. We've begun a _Grey's Anatomy_ marathon, living vicariously through hot Residents and Attendings screwing each other in the on-call rooms. It makes me feel better knowing their lives are just as screwed up as mine, though I still feel I have the upper hand when it comes to drama. How often does one lose their virginity to a fucked-up billionaire, only to be dumped hours later? Though it becomes a toss-up when they start losing legs and sisters are dying in plane crashes, so I rescind my trump card. Clearly, everyone is fucked up.

As we start another episode of _Grey's_, Kate works on finishing off the second bottle. I nurse a carton of Ben and Jerry's vanilla ice cream, groaning in appreciation.

"From now on, I'm only going to eat ice cream." I declare, as Kate drops the almost empty bottle in my lap. "Just ice cream. And then I'll get fat, and I'll have a reason for why boys won't want me."

"I bet Christian would like some junk in your trunk. Even if you got fat, he'd probably still bone you." Kate hiccups, grinning delinquently.

I glare, peeved at her topic of choice. Why did she have to bring him up? I was just starting to forget about him. "I declare this a Christian-free zone from now on. No amount of wine or ice cream can help me if you keep throwing him in my face." I grumble, reaching for a new bottle of wine. I thought I was done drinking, but Kate has effectively changed my plans. It's not like I have a job or boyfriend to go to tomorrow anyways.

She merely shrugs, holding her glass out to me. I pour the wine before resuming our show, a twinge of pain finding its way back into my chest. And rather than finding distraction, all I hear in my head is _Christian, Christian, Christian._

_Goddammit._

* * *

There's a terrible pounding in my head when I wake. _What time is it?_ Looking around I realize I've fallen asleep on the couch, Kate on the floor next to me. There's a melted carton of sticky ice cream and the third bottle of wine tipped over, a small puddle on the hardwood floor.

"Kate, wake up." I complain, nudging her gently with my foot.

"Fuck off." She grumbles swatting my foot away, burying her head further into the mass of blankets she's using as a bed. I continue to kick her. "Go away, Ana." Her voice rises in irritation.

"This place is a mess." I whisper loudly. A fit of giggles starts before I can stop it. I've only been drunk a few times, and as I sit up, the entire room spins uncontrollably. "What happened last night?" Rubbing my head, I try to focus my eyes. Instead, my head bobbles side to side unsteadily making me laugh even more.

"Shut. Up."

"Fine." I pout, before slowly falling onto my side, closing my eyes to stop the spinning. _Yes, this feels much better_.

* * *

After a few more hours of sleep, I wake up to the same scene as before. Melted ice cream and a tipped over bottle of wine. Only this time when I sit up, I'm able to remain in one spot instead of tumbling back over. Stretching, I reach over for my phone to check what time it is, but freeze as I see the last screen I was on, an open text message to Christian – though his name was changed to 'DANGER' by one Kate Kavanaugh.

***Ur an ass. And ur vry sexy. Whyy dont' yu want me?1 take me back. Call mee. Pls. its ana.***

Cursing in embarrassment, I immediately delete the offending drunk text before I accidentally hit send. What on earth possessed me to be so stupid? As Kate stirs beside me, I find my answer.

Ah yes, if she hadn't mentioned Christian, I wouldn't have gone for that third bottle of wine on my own. It's all coming back to me, one fuzzy piece at a time. For good measure, I check to see that I didn't inadvertently call him in my drunken haze, thankful that I hadn't. At least something can go right in my life.

Taking a deep breath to clear my thoughts, I set my phone back down. I try to go over all the decisions I've decided to make over the last few hours. I will call Christian. We will talk, he will apologize, and I'll forgive him. I will move on. I will be okay.

Kate continues to sleep noisily on the floor, and I carefully step over her and head to my room. I decide that today will be the first day of my new life post-Christian. I can't wallow and pine after him if he doesn't want me. It's not fair for me to blame Christian for that; I can't make him feel anything for me. And it's not fair to myself to keep up the delusion that he'll come around and be what I want him to be.

I shower, wash my face and apply a light layer of makeup. My face no longer looks pale and ghastly, and I dab on some mascara just because. I look better and feel better already. Pulling my hair up into a messy bun, I change into a loose-fitting slub tee and boxer shorts before heading into the living room to take on the aftermath of our wine-fueled night.

Working around Kate, I manage to get the place cleaned up, one large garbage bag later. It feels good to be doing something rather than lying buried in bed, tucked away from the world. A staccato knock interrupts the silence of the apartment just as I'm putting the last few pillows back onto the couch.

Slowly opening the door, I'm greeted by a delivery man in a navy blue uniform. "Delivery for Miss Anastasia Steele."

"That's me."

"Please sign here."

I sign the electronic notepad, before being given a cream colored envelope, my name beautifully written in black ink. A stream of delivery men stroll through the apartment, but I ignore the parade of flowers as I eagerly tear through the paper to find a lengthy handwritten letter. Immediately I look at the bottom to see who it's from, and my heart stutters.

_Christian._

* * *

**A/N:** Thank you for all the reviews/favorites/follows! Reviews are greatly appreciated!


	12. Truths and Honesty, Part II

**CHAPTER 12 – TRUTHS AND HONESTY, PART II**

_For once there is nothing up my sleeve  
Just some scars from a life that used to trouble me  
I used to run at first sight of the sun  
Now I lay here waiting for you to wake up_

_For everyone, I'm out to prove wrong, you keep the light on_  
_The only one, you know me better than the truth_  
_So, despite what I've done, I pray to God that we can move on_  
_'Cause thus far you are the best thing that this life has yet to lose_

_-Sight of the Sun (Fun.)-_

* * *

**(APOV)**

Clutching the letter between shaky fingers, I tremble with curiosity, anxious to hear his written voice play in my head. His beautifully scripted handwriting flows effortlessly on the page, and I try to calm myself down so I can start. Inhaling slowly, I begin to read.

_Dear Ana, _

_Let me start by saying how terribly sorry I am. I never meant to hurt you the way I did. And now, I just don't know how or what to do to make things right. I'm so sorry._

_I know I can't just make this right with a few words written on a piece of paper. Truthfully, I'm scared to even see you, knowing I'll chicken out and you'll never hear the words I want to say to you. You terrify me and I'm completely out of my depth when it comes to you. But you deserve an explanation. You deserve answers._

_I don't expect anything in return from you, just that you hear me out. I want you to know that despite my actions and words (or lack thereof) you were not just a one-night stand for me. You will never be _just another girl. _And I will never be satisfied with only one night with you. I'll never get enough of you._

_What we shared was beyond rhyme or reason for two strangers to feel what we did. What we shared, it's what lovers who have been together their entire lives feel. What people can only dream about, sing about, write about, yet never be so lucky as to ever experience its perfection. It transcends all logic, all reason, all sense. I don't understand it, how easily you have come into my life and transformed my entire world, but it doesn't matter. In all honesty, I don't care. I don't care why the stars aligned that night we first met, but I thank every higher power that they did. Yet, I've gone and messed it all up. Threw it away like it meant nothing to me. But nothing could be further from the truth. _

_I've never had to apologize before. I don't know how to be romantic or thoughtful or do any of that kind of stuff to express how I feel. So, I apologize if I've gone about this all wrong and you find my feeble attempt amiss. Knowing this, I didn't know what to do to get your attention or what kind of grand gesture would be appropriate to show what words fail me._

_For that reason, all I could come up with were sending you flowers. I know its cliché and hardly original, almost insulting to you. You're unique and one-of-a-kind, which only made it harder. But I wanted to send you flowers, not just any kind, but ones that represent a part of you. I don't even know if you like flowers; however I hope you'll like these ones. Each one was handpicked by me, each with a meaning that made me think of you._

_Firstly, I chose lilies because they embody innocence, beauty, and a purity of heart. Undeniably you are all these things; the pureness inside of you rare and precious, something I was blessed enough to receive. _

_The brightness and color of the gerbera daisies represent cheerfulness and joy, which you undoubtedly bring with the lilt of your giggle, and the sweetness of the smile that plays on your lips. _

_Sweet pea flowers denote pleasure and bliss, no two words that better summarize our first night together. From the way your lips felt upon mine, to the feeling of your arms holding me close, nothing could have been more heavenly. _

_Pink roses are symbolic of happiness, a sentiment I'm not overly familiar with, yet with you, it's all I feel. We barely know each other, nonetheless it's a feeling I'd like to return. I'd like the chance to be your happiness too. _

_And lastly, daffodils, which are emblematic of new beginnings. They signify the dawn of a new start, for us, if you're willing to try. With me._

_Whatever you decide and take away from this letter, just know that I will hold close to me everything we've shared together. Never will I forget the softness in your voice, the benevolence in your eyes, or the first time I ever made love. You deserve someone who will cherish you, let you know how much you mean to them. I want to be that someone; show you just what you've come to mean to me. If I were to be so lucky, I just ask that you be patient with me; I'm going to get things wrong. I'm going to mess up spectacularly, and that's not something I'm used to. But if you can just walk with me, wait for me to find my ground and help me when I stumble, then I think we could be really great together. I know we would._

_You completely beguile me; I'm utterly and hopelessly bewitched by you. Words escape me when I think about you. The fact is: I screwed up, and now am full of regrets. I want you to forgive me, to give me another chance, and let me be the one to hold you at night and tell you you're beautiful. I want us to get to know each other, learn things about one another and create new meanings together. However, I fully understand if what I've done has hurt you too much that forgiveness is no longer an option. I'm such a fool, and I certainly don't deserve someone as wonderful as you._

_I don't know what else to say. Again, I apologize for my terrible way with words; I don't know how to say what I want to say to you. I hope this letter finds you well, and I hope…I hope that I'll get to see you again, Ana. _

_Whatever happens, I only want you to be happy. With or without me._

_-Christian _

* * *

Gut-wrenchingly, I wipe away the large wet blobs of tears dripping onto the quivering piece of paper in my hands. My eyes are blurry, and it takes me a few blinks before I can see again. When I do, I find myself looking into a striking display of beautiful blossoms, each bouquet impeccable in every way. I see each of the different flowers Christian himself picked out for me and I reverently slide my fingers over the petals, soft and silky, grown to perfection.

Words escape me, rendering me speechless as I gaze wondrously at this stunningly romantic declaration before me. _How can he possibly think this isn't romantic or thoughtful?_ Willing myself to keep it together, a sob catches in my throat as I feel Kate's presence behind me. Like the best friend that she is, silently she wraps her arms around my waist, comforting me in a way that she knows matters to me. The shock and overwhelming feelings pulsing through me causes my heart to swell beyond my chest, from the poignant handwritten letter, to the intimately chosen flowers that now permeate the air with a lovely Spring aroma.

"Are you okay?" She asks softly, her head resting on my shoulder. I nod, unsure of how to respond. I've never felt this way before; a want and a need so powerful that I'm afraid I'll break. She doesn't ask who all of this is from, she already knows. Instead, she reaches over to a solitary gold card in one of the bouquets, looking to me for permission. I nod.

**_*Five bouquets, one for each minute we've known each other. _**  
**_I'm an idiot. Please call me._**  
**_-Christian*_**

We laugh at the card, though mine comes out a garbled noise from my earlier emotions tangled with the new ones. Kate gives me a knowing look as she nods her head to the ornately wrapped gold box sitting on the corner of the kitchen island. Her eyes dance with excitement, contagious as I hurriedly go to open it. Pulling the twine and removing the lid, I'm surprised when I see a new phone and another tiny gold card waiting for me.

**_*Your phone is a travesty. It clearly does not work since you have not returned any of my calls. Hopefully this upgrade will keep you better in touch with the real world. _**  
**_-The Real World, aka Christian Grey, or just Christian*_**

I grin at Kate as a smile threatens to split me in two. Swooning at the cards, _playful Christian!,_ I'm in awe of the contrasting conundrum that is this complex man, from the light-hearted nature of his cards, to the candid and honest letter still clutched between my fingers. I realize this is him inviting me in; pulling me closer, no longer pushing me away. True to his word, he's letting me in, allowing me to see his many shades, each one as wonderful as the last.

Studying the phone in my palm, I hear Kate sigh in exasperation, shaking her head. "Call him!" She says with a sincere smirk, nudging me gently. "If this doesn't make you want to give the guy another chance, nothing will!"

My fingers stutter as they fly across the screen trying to figure out how to use it. _Of course, _I smile to myself as I find his number already saved and set-up as Speed-Dial 1. Hitting the call button, it rings once before I hear his smooth, sensual voice greet me.

"Ana." He breathes with relief. My entire body breathes with him, his single utterance a beacon of solace. The sound of his voice is enough to wash away the salty tears I've cried over the past few days, piecing me back together again.

"Hi Christian." I whisper bashfully. From the letter, to the flowers, to hearing him now, everything else in the world disappears. The clouds break, and a ray of sunshine floods my dreary little world, bringing me back to life. "Thank you for the flowers, they're beautiful. I just got them."

His voice is soft and tender, shy even. "You're welcome."

"But this phone…I can't keep it. It's too much." Though I clutch onto it as if it's him.

"You can and you will. If it means you'll talk to me, consider it yours."

"But Christian-"

"Ana, please just say thank you and be done with it." He admonishes lightly, and I smile.

Biting my lip, I nod my head. "Okay. Thank you." No sense in fighting this. _Any of this_.

A lull forms between us, but I find I don't mind it. Just knowing that he's on the other line makes me feel okay. More than okay_._

Finally, I find enough courage to ask, "How are you? I read your letter…"

He's silent for a beat, before he confesses, "I've missed you. As soon as you left, I tried calling you. I left you messages…but I didn't know what else to do. I didn't think you'd want to see me." He sounds so sad. As sad as I feel. _Is it possible?_

"I've missed you too." I reply honestly.

"Can I see you? I'm downstairs…" He says wearily.

Running to the window, lo and behold, I see him leaning up against his black SUV. Dressed in a light-blue dress shirt with the sleeves rolled-up and a grey suit-vest that matches his grey pants, I see a glimpse of skin from where the top few buttons are undone, and bite my lip from the sight of him. His aviator sunglasses are on, and his hair is lightly tousled from the wind making him look wild and sexy. _As if he needed any help_. Shamelessly, my breath catches as I stare at him, my body awake and eager for our reunion. _Why again, was I ever mad at him?_

"Y-yes." I stammer. And before he can say any more, I'm running down the stairs to greet him.

Bursting through the doors and into the brightly sunny day, I can't stop running until I find myself jumping into his arms. He easily catches me in his embrace, lifting me off my feet with a gentle squeeze, his chuckle loud and sweet against my ear. I melt in his grasp, the pain and sadness from the last few days rendered a distant memory.

"Oh Ana." He breathes, kissing the top of my head as he puts me back down. "God I've missed you." He kisses my forehead, my nose, my cheek, before lingering at my lips unsure whether or not it's okay to do so. Without hesitation I make the decision for him, leaning in closer sealing our lips in a meaningful caress. The familiarity of his kiss already profound and imbedded in me as I yearn for his touch, effortlessly deepening my hold on him. A measured growl pierces the silence around us, his grip tightening around me.

The music swells on our cinematic reunion as birds chirp, the sun shines, children laugh and choruses of heavenly sweet angels croon melodiously in the air. Up is up, down is down. All is right in the world.

Our kiss comes to a slow finish when he pulls away, tenderly placing a tiny kiss on the tip of my nose. My cheeks flush and glow as his beaming smile warms my entire body. His eyes swiftly change to mirth as he looks me over, his head shaking. "As sexy as you look in this, might I point out it's almost noon, I'd rather not have everyone on the street see you in your underwear."

"They're pajamas." I defend unable to hide my own smile.

"Whatever you say." He murmurs as his finger traces the hem of my indecently short boxers and I feel the heat redden my cheeks. I cross my arms over my chest already feeling my nipples stiffen as he stares at my breasts, a sexy smirk on his lips. "Come on, let's get you inside." He nods back to the apartment.

Once inside, Kate has gratefully cleared out and hidden herself away in her room. "Would you like anything to drink?" I offer as I pull on a nearby sweater off of the couch and zip it up half-way. "Coffee?" He nods his head as I start to make it, hands shaking, but frown when I realize I don't know how he likes it.

"One cream, one sugar." He speaks softly, coming up behind me to place a kiss on my shoulder. Turning my head to take in his comforting scent and the warmth of his frame, I kiss his lips shyly, my body screaming for more. He appeases me by returning my kiss, his hands decisively planted on my hips. His mouth is soft and firm; his kiss tender. My hands slowly find their way up his arms and around his neck, pulling him closer, holding him tighter. How can anything so new, so unfamiliar, feel so right?

Lifting me up, he places me on the counter, our kiss uninterrupted. It's as if the past few days didn't happen, him and I in perfect harmony. Seconds turn into minutes as I lose myself in this beautiful man. His arms wrap around my waist drawing me in, and I let out a moan as I feel his strong chest against mine. My nipples perk up in desire, pleasure singeing my body as I feel the heat of his. Alone in our private world, nothing more than skin on skin, lips on lips.

It's not until I hear the clacking of Kate's heels on the hardwood floor that I jump and Christian breaks the kiss, both of us grinning guiltily at each other. "Just going out for a bit." Kate calls as she continues through the living room, her own grin on her face. "No sex in the kitchen, I mean it. I eat there." And with that, she's out the door leaving me a daring shade of red.

"She'll never know." He winks playfully before resuming our kiss.

* * *

His coffee is long cold and forgotten when we finally pull away from each other, sated and content. My head is light and dizzy from his kisses, a permanent smile mirrored on our faces.

"Are you supposed to be somewhere today?"

"I have to stop by the office later."

"But it's Saturday." I pout.

He gives me a sad smile. "I haven't really put in a whole lot of hours this week. I have some things I need to catch up on."

"Oh…" I don't really know what to say to that. It saddens me and pleases me at the same time knowing he's been as miserable these past few days as I have. I don't think I'd be able to bear knowing he was just fine, while my entire world collapsed around me.

With a chaste kiss to his lips once more, I jump off the counter to heat up his coffee. As I wait, I nervously twist my fingers together. "Do you have time…to talk?"

I hold my breath as I wait for his answer, knowing I can't let his kisses detract me from the reason we're even here in the first place. If we're ever going to work, we need to talk. Up until a few minutes ago I was ready to say goodbye to him, but after reading his letter and seeing him here, I don't know what I want anymore. All thought and reason flits out of my grasp, and I feel a helplessness swoop over me.

He's just as nervous, nodding his head. "Yeah, I think we should talk."

I cringe once I realize this is the first time he's seeing my apartment. He looks so out of place in our half-unpacked apartment that screams college dorm room from the Ikea furniture to the obnoxious photo collages and pink frilly décor. I go to apologize for the mess, but he settles into the couch comfortably, his ankle crossing over his knee. He smiles warmly, patiently, and I take that as my cue to start.

"First, I just want to say thank you." I begin, words tumbling out quickly. "I've never…no one's ever…that was…" Huffing in frustration, I take a shaky breath to gather my thoughts. "The flowers are beautiful. But even more so were the words you wrote along with them. You are a very sweet man, Christian Grey." I whisper softly, placing my small hands in his. I'm rewarded by his boyish smile, that smile that wields a devilish power over my body. _Concentrate, Steele!_ "I'd also like to give you my own apology. That day I left, I said some really horrible things to you. And I shouldn't have pushed you so much to talk about…_you know_. It's none of my business, and I'm sorry for being so childish. I'm so embarrassed.

"I just…I just don't know what came over me. One minute everything's perfect, the next it's not. I've been rejected my whole life, and I felt like you were doing the same when you pushed me away. It just really hurt, and I panicked." I shrug my shoulders, nervous for his reaction. "But was I the only one who felt something real between us? That wasn't just sex Christian."

"It wasn't." His strong hands wrap around mine before he plants a tender kiss in the palm of each. "And I feel it too." He whispers. I smile as I look down at our hands, too shy to look up at him. "And that's why I got so…so…freaked out. Ana…you've completely unarmed me. Before you, I led a very controlled life and that's how I like it. I like being in control…" He hesitates, and I think he has more to say, but then he stops. I wait, but he's unwilling to continue.

"I get it Christian, I do. The life you live, you need control. I don't know how you'd function without it. But…I don't see what that has to do with me. Are you afraid I'll…I'll what? I would never say anything to anyone about us; it's none of their business. And I would never use you for anything; I would hope you would know I'm not that kind of person." I'm irked that I have to defend my character to him. _Is it possible that's what he thinks of me_?

"Oh, Ana, no! That's not what I think at all!" He says firmly. His hair flops as he shakes his head adamantly, but I remain skeptical. He takes another long pause, before speaking again. "There's something I have to tell you about myself."

"Is it about the scars?"

He shakes his head. "No, something else. Though that's just as fucked-up a story. But once I tell you…you're going to want to run. You won't want anything to do with me, and it'll crush me. But I'll understand…because it's what you _should_ do. I'm no good-"

"Stop saying that!" I shriek in annoyance. "Why don't you let me be the judge of that? I'm old enough to know what's good or not for me. I'm not a fucking _child_, Christian." I sneer the last part, my emotions no longer contained. How can he make me feel so out of control all the time? I can't keep my head on straight when he's around; I don't know if I want to slap him or kiss him half the time.

He remains aloof at my outburst, having expected it. "I know you're not a child." He placates, his fingers tracing over the lines on my palms. Taking a nervous breath, he breathes slowly out his nose. "I'm just going to fucking say it, okay?" His voice rises, trying to convince himself, more so than me. I nod my head, and wait.

_And wait._

"Christian…" I prod gently after a few minutes of silence. "Whatever it is-"

"I'm a Dominant, Ana." He blurts out, no longer touching me. I stare at him in confusion as he backs away from me, creating distance between us. _That's what he's afraid to tell me?_ I try not to laugh.

"Christian, no offence, but I already know you're domineering. It's quite obvious-"

"No Ana. A Dominant, _not_ _domineering_."

"I don't understand." I watch as he rakes his fingers through his hair, fingers shaking. _God he's nervous._

"Do you know anything about BDSM?" He utters at my blank expression. _BD-what? _"It's an alternative lifestyle…a sexual lifestyle."

_Oh._

"As a Dominant, I have women, contracted submissives."

"Hookers?" I ask indignantly. _He has sex with hookers?_

"No, no." He shakes his head. "God how do I explain this?" He curses, shoulders tense.

"Just talk." I say gently. We're finally getting somewhere and I don't want him to stop now. Even as my insides are screaming, _What. The. Fuck._

"These women, subs, we have an arrangement to fulfill sexual desires of pain and pleasure. They sign non-disclosure agreements and a contract. There are limits from both parties – things we're willing and not willing to do. The whole premise of the agreement is to push boundaries of pain and pleasure."

_Fuck_.

I try to find my bearings as I try to process all of this information. Yet all I hear is _pain pain pain _and I understand why he kept trying to push me away. I thought his big secret was about his scars, but apparently not. Apparently he likes to have painful sex with contracted women. _Where does one find these women?_

"So…these women. They _want_ to be hurt?"

He nods his head.

"And you hurt them?"

"Yes."

"But why?"

"It's not…I don't…it's not to _hurt _hurt them. I mean, it's not done with malice or violence. It's about pain and pleasure – the two are intertwined."

My mouth gapes as I try to process this. Now I understand why he was so afraid to tell me, but if I'm being honest, it doesn't seem as bad as he's making it out to be. These women…they _want_ _that_, so…oh god I don't know what I am saying! Am I supposed to be one of these women? Does he want to hurt _me?_

"I'm not explaining myself very well." He grumbles in frustration. "I've never had to explain this before."

"You're doing fine." I reply quietly. Gathering my wits around me, I ask, "How exactly do these relationships work? What do you do? Where do you find these women?"

The shock on his face is telling; he wasn't expecting me to ask questions. His assumption that I would immediately ask him to leave irks me; if I'm being honest, I'm less scared, and more curious if anything. Confused, but curious.

He proceeds to further explain his lifestyle to me: special agencies that cater to the BDSM lifestyle. Complete discretion. Complete control over the other. Pushing limits. Pain to achieve pleasure. Safe words. Restraints and toys. Scenes._ His playroom._

I feel myself pale as words continue to fall from his lips. My brain is overloaded with information and words I've never heard before. It's overwhelming, but I find myself asking in a tiny voice, afraid of his answer, "Do you want me to be a sub?"

"What? No!" He replies adamantly. "God no!" He closes the gap between us, needing physical reassurance for…_him? Me? Both of us?_ "That's just it though…I've never known anything but that lifestyle. That night when you asked me to make love to you…I didn't know what to do."

I blush crimson at the memory of just how skilled he was in making my body sing for him. "You didn't seem like you didn't know what you were doing." The corners of his mouth slightly twitch upwards, and I can't help but smile myself. There's no denying the chemistry and heat we share when we're together.

"So…where do we go from here? You're a Dominant, and I'm not. And I don't think I could be a submissive…the idea scares me and I just don't think that I could be one." I lament sadly. Why did this have to be his big secret? And there's the impasse – the crux that he's known all along. We live two completely different lifestyles, neither of us knowing how to be a part of the other's.

"I know." He shakes his head, but actually smiles. "Plus, you could never be a sub."

"You don't know that." I say peevishly. Irrationally, I feel offended; piqued that he would say that.

"_That._" He smirks, and I can't help hide my confusion. "Submissives are _submissive_; they are obedient, compliant, trained to give up control. You, Anastasia, are anything but submissive." He actually has the gall to chuckle, adding to my indignation. _What is the matter with me? _"Easy there tiger, that's exactly what I mean. You're fiery, bold, witty, independent, and that smart-mouth of yours would get you into a lot of trouble if you were a sub. All those things are what I _like_ about you, it's not meant to insult you." I narrow my eyes and cross my arms over my chest, not yet convinced. "Ana, would you ever let me tell you what to do without questioning it? Would you ever do exactly what I tell you to do? Control everything about you?"

I take a minute to contemplate his words. It would only be in the bedroom, or _playroom_, right? He couldn't possibly control _everything _about me, could he? It would almost be like a game, a sex-game. How bad could it really be? It almost sounds _fun, _but he seems so serious about it. And suddenly it feels like a challenge calling my name. My stubborn name. Trying my hardest to keep my voice under control, I allow my gaze to find his, undeterred by his smouldering grey eyes imploring me.

"What if I try?"

* * *

**(CPOV)**

I gape at her as the words try to settle in my head.

_What if I try?_

Why does she feel the need to constantly shock me? It's frustrating and sexy in the most complicated way. She's watching me with those blue eyes, beseeching me to cave. She must know the power she already wields over me. I've just told her I like to control women…and here, the most defiant girl I've ever met _wants_ me to control her?

"Ana, I don't think you understand." I start, because she can't possibly be agreeing to be my sub. I _don't want_ her to be my sub. But I also don't know what else there is for us.

"Then make me understand." She scoots closer on the couch until she's resting in my lap. She toys with the collar of my shirt, her eyes big and longing. "What would I have to do? I want to be with you. Isn't that what you want? Your letter, the flowers. Don't you want to be with me?" Her voice is light and buttery, saying words I want to hear. Having her close to me impedes my judgement and all I can think about is tying her up and fucking her hard_._ Her soft wet body wrapped around mine, calling out my name over and over again. In one swift move, I could have her clothes off and legs spread before me, begging me to fuck her.

"Ana, you're mistaken."

"I'm not mistaken!"

"Maybe you should research it some more. I don't think I did a good job in explaining it. I don't want you agreeing to anything; there's nothing _to_ agree to. But maybe once you've gotten a better understanding of it…then we can talk some more. Tonight, if you'd like." Playing with the hem of her shirt, I can't believe how confused and utterly overwhelmed I feel. _Why would she say that?_

_What if she agrees? What if she doesn't?_

"Okay." Her sweet voice sings, before she gently kisses my lips as if it's a done deal. She's smiling at me as if this conversation never happened.

"Okay?"

She nods her head. "I'll think it over, and then we can talk." The airiness in her voice unsettles me; it's like she just agreed to go for a walk in the park, not to become someone's submissive. "Do you need to go to work?" She asks, her small arms draped over my shoulders and I realize that I do.

"Tonight then." I sigh, wrapping my arms around her and giving her one last squeeze. Planting a slow, searing kiss on her pouty lips, I savor the taste of her mouth on mine before lifting her off my lap. This could be the last chance I have at this, at her, and I want that kiss to burn through her, body and soul. After she truly gets an idea for what kind of messed up shit I'm into, no doubt she'll run. _Again_. And I'll have lost her. _Again_.

_Fuck._

As she pulls away, her blue eyes are dark and wild. She has on her secret smile, the one that tells me she is up to no good. I wonder devilishly if that sexy little vixen from the other night wants to come out and play. She looks like she wants to devour me, and I want her to. It's that same look she had in the tub, and I feel my dick twitch at the memory.

She notices.

Before I can stop her, _fuck she moves fast,_ she's sliding off my lap and she's down on her knees pulling open my slacks. Her tiny hand reaches in and pulls out my dick, hard as can be. She eyes it mischievously.

"Ana don't…" I say lamely, but I already know neither of us will be able to stop it. She feels so good and looks so determined. It's sexy as hell as I watch her stroke me in fascination.

Her hand glides up and down my dick a few times testing its weight and size, before she opens that sexy little mouth of hers and wraps her lips around me. She feels so soft and warm; I groan as she begins to suck, her tongue tracing the path of throbbing veins. Her mouth is an expert at pleasing me, and I lean back, completely at her mercy. I can no longer think about how bad this is – I cannot lead her into my darkness – but she feels so _fucking good_ that the selfish bastard in me tells me to _shut the fuck up_ and enjoy this beautiful girl. Commit to memory everything about her, about this moment. And I do.

I run my fingers through her silky hair, pulling her closer. My balls tighten and my cock slides further into her mouth, deeper down her throat. _Shit, she can go deep_. Her lips find my balls and I mewl at the wetness of her mouth. She's working harder now: sucking, licking, teeth grazing, and I grip her shoulders tightly unable to decide if I want to push her away or pull her closer. I still find it hard to believe she's never done this before – she's too damn good at it. Her head bobs up and down; slurping noises escaping the suction she has around me. I don't have time to think as I feel that sudden rush of blinding light sneak up behind me and my entire body spasms and jerks, cum filling her sweet little mouth. She greedily licks me clean – _fuck, she's naughty_ – and smiles approvingly as if she's just accomplished some great feat. Looking up at me cunningly, her tongue traces her now swollen lips, eyes alight. I haven't cum that quickly in years, and I'm equally impressed as I am embarrassed.

"Have a good day at work." She purrs as she stands up and heads to her room, leaving me there with my dick out and mouth open.

_Fuck. Who's in control now?_

* * *

**A/N:** Thank you for all the reviews/favorites/follows! Reviews are greatly appreciated! I have never taken a botany class or claim to be a flower expert. Please ignore any glaring discrepancies in flower meanings :)


	13. Two Steps Forward

**CHAPTER 13 – TWO STEPS FORWARD**

_When you're ready, just say you're ready_  
_When all the baggage just ain't as heavy_  
_And the party's over, just don't forget me_  
_We'll change the pace and we'll just go slow_

_You won't ever have to worry_  
_You won't ever have to hide_  
_You've seen all my mistakes_  
_So look me in my eyes_  
_Cause if you let me, here's what I'll do_  
_I'll take care of you._

_-Take Care (Drake ft. Rihanna)-_

* * *

**(CPOV)**

The shock on my face must still be evident as I slide into the backseat of the SUV, Taylor eyeing me warily. With a wave of my hand I tell him to take me to Grey House, already knowing this trip to the office is going to be pointless. _What just happened in there?_

The drive is quiet save for my own thoughts running rampant, as images of Ana's pouty mouth bobbing up and down floods my mind. The way she looked at me knowing exactly what she was doing to me confuses and baffles my wayward thoughts. It's all such a fucking turn on knowing my sweet girl enjoys being so naughty.

"Taylor you look at me one more time and you _will_ be out on your ass." I bark as we round the corner. The fucker keeps looking at me, burning with curiosity whether or not things went well. Knowing what a shit I've been all week, no one more so than Taylor has been rooting for Ana's return back into my life. If anything, it'll make life much easier for everyone for Ana to take her place by my side. The thought makes me smile, having her next to me.

"Will you be at the office long?" He fishes, and the guffaw that spills out of me is out before I can stop it. If I wasn't in such a good mood I'd be pissed as hell at his prying. Reluctantly, I decide to cut the poor fuck some slack. Consider it my good deed for the year.

"No, actually I will be having dinner with Anastasia tonight, hopefully at Escala. We'll only be here a few hours at the most."

The fucker actually grins as we pull into the parking garage, and all I can do is shake my head. _God damn, Ana._

* * *

**(APOV)**

Closing the door behind me, a full-blown grin marks my face as I try to suppress a delighted squeal. I'm shocked by my impromptu thank-you for the note and flowers, but more than pleased with myself if I'm being honest. _He's not the only one who likes being in control,_ I muse to myself.

Borrowing Kate's laptop I begin my research. The bottom line is this: I want to be with Christian. Nothing and no one can make me change my mind; regardless of who he is or what baggage he carries, I am ready and willing to give us a real chance. Whatever he needs, I'll do it.

I understand his reticence and why he was so afraid to tell me about himself. He lives a completely different sexual lifestyle, and I've only just entered mine. I am the furthest thing from what he's used to but I don't care. I'm determined to prove him wrong; that we are right for each other and that we can make this work. I can't deny the way I feel about him when we're together and I'm done fighting it. We deserve an honest chance together, eyes wide open.

Nonetheless, as I scroll through the pages of domination and submission, my high from earlier promptly starts to wane and I feel myself pale, the desire to challenge him dissipating. There is so much I don't know about regular sex, and Christian's lifestyle is sex to the extreme. _He has a sex room for fuck's sake! _The irony of that sentence isn't lost on me.

I continue to read, and the more I read the more disconcerted I get. I try to keep an open mind but the more I see, the more I want to run. How can anyone find pleasure in any of this? I shudder at the thought of being hurt or punished, or worse – humiliated. If that's the kind of thing he wants from me, I just don't think I can do it. Not with my own issues and history, the last thing I want is to ever feel that way again. A disheartening thud weighs heavily on my chest at the realization. _Why did this have to be his secret?_

The idea of pain during sex turns me off completely, yet that's a huge part of this lifestyle. Admittedly there are elements I'm not entirely opposed to and am willing to try or experiment with, but on the whole I'm completely put off, agitated as the realization of just how different we are hits home. Hours later after scanning website after website, I get off my bed and make my way to the kitchen to stretch my achy legs from sitting so long. The welcomed sight of the flowers reminds me of who gave them to me and what it is that I want. What I _think_ I want_. _And I want Christian.

Running my fingers along the silky petals, I take a slow steady breath. Am I really willing to set aside my own fears and hesitations for something more with him? _What am I willing to give up? What will I gain?_

As I try to process the discordant feelings hanging over me, the need for clarity and understanding rules out. He said we could talk tonight if I wanted, and perhaps that'll be just the thing I need in order to get some context into what exactly it is he's into and what I'd be in for. I have too many burning questions that refuse to be silenced. My inner voices are at war with each other and it's as exhausting as it is overwhelming, adding to my confusion. I just need some sort of reassurance, some sort of sign that what I'm doing will be worth it. If not, I don't think I can go through with this.

The thought alone of walking away and saying goodbye to Christian creates a tense knot in my stomach, achy and painful and downright agonizing. Knowing that there's a chance that I won't ever get to see him, feel him next to me, taste his kiss ever again if I walk away burdens me with insufferable dread that I wonder if in haste I may just decide something I know I'll regret regardless of what I feel would be best for me. How will I go on then? _Please let us find a way._

I don't know how long I end up researching once I go back to my room determined to find a solution to the impasse we're in, but I run a tired hand over my face and look down at my shiny new phone after some time. I haven't yet had the chance to explore it, forgetting I even had it, and take this moment to do just that. My brain can no longer look at another image of women gagged and punished and calling it pleasurable. I haven't the energy left trying to convince myself of the same.

Scrolling through I add a few numbers I know off-hand – mom, Ray, Kate, Ethan, Jose, before pressing on the different buttons and opening the different programs. A laugh rumbles inside of me as I see my email already set up with Christian's contact info ready for my disposal. In fact, he's put every form of possible communication with him – both home and work phone numbers and emails, even his mailing address and a P.O. box he has. _Of course_, I ponder to myself, though I find myself grateful for that bit of meddling. Knowing he's given me so many ways to contact him surely has to be promising. He _wants_ me to talk to him. I can only hope that he'll want to talk in return.

* * *

**To**: Christian Grey  
**From:** Anastasia Steele  
**Subject**: Good Girl

Christian,

I've been doing my homework. I have some questions.

I'd still like to talk after work. Dinner at your place?

Hope my send-off this morning was satisfactory ;) Another A perhaps?

-Ana xx

* * *

I grin with glee. The look on his face when I walked away was priceless. I must admit I do enjoy teasing him and making him want me. God knows how badly I want him. But between the incredible high I feel when I'm with him, to this simpering low as I learn more and more about what he's into, my confusion becomes palpable. I feel mercurial as ever as I bounce between elation and trepidation, stay or run, try or leave.

A ping alerts on my phone almost immediately, my eyes widening when I see it's him.

* * *

**To**: Anastasia Steele  
**From**: Christian Grey  
**Subject**: Returning the Favor

Ana,

It was most definitely satisfactory. A++ satisfactory. I haven't been able to stop thinking about it since. I've also spent the majority of the day finding a way to _top_ your send-off.

I will pick you up after work, 6:00pm?

-Christian  
Satisfied CEO, Grey Enterprise Holdings

* * *

My cheeks redden. Oh boy, I'm playing with fire.

* * *

**To**: Christian Grey  
**From**: Anastasia Steele  
**Subject**: Obedience

Mr. Grey,

If 6:00pm works for you, it works for me.

See, I can be submissive ;)

-Ana xxx

* * *

After a few more sparring emails to Christian, I begin to get ready searching for the perfect outfit. I'm confused as the doorbell rings, not having expected any visitors and knowing it's too early for Christian to be picking me up. Still being new to Seattle, not a whole lot of people know who we are. Grumbling at the interruption, I answer the door to yet another delivery man. Accepting the envelope, I head back to my room to find out what it is. On top there's a note in what I've now come to recognize as Christian's perfectly scripted writing.

**_*A bit more research material for your perusing.  
NOT for you to sign, but to read.  
It's not too late to run.  
-C*_**

I frown at the note. As I open the envelope, I realize it's the NDA and the submissive contract.

* * *

**(CPOV)**

I can't wipe the stupid grin off my face as I re-read Ana's emails. She certainly has a way with that mouth of hers.

I just don't know what it is about her that has me so bewitched. Everything about her has me utterly mesmerized, a glutton for more of her. The more I think about it, the more I realize how much I don't want her to be my sub. She would never listen to me in all things anyways, instead, taking great pleasure in confronting me at every turn. The fact that that alone makes me smile rather than piss me off is very telling. Though the idea of punishing her, spanking her, tying her up if she disobeys me definitely turns me on, I've always had a detachment towards my subs. They were meaningless blank faces which whom I had complete control over. They didn't have feelings for me, I didn't have feelings for them, and it was an arrangement for both parties to receive pleasure and nothing more. It was convenient, practical, just another transaction for me.

But with Ana, she's come to mean so much more to me in such a short period of time. I know I could never look at her with the same detachment that I had towards the previous fifteen. And the idea of hurting her or causing her pain makes my skin crawl. She's too good, too pure and I don't want to take her down that road. There's just something about her that makes we want to protect her and keep her safe, and to do whatever I possibly can to make her happy and see her smile.

What's confusing is that she's sending me mixed messages, but I know she's just trying to put on a brave face for me. If she truly knew my lifestyle, or me, she wouldn't be so eager to agree. But she's agreed to be open-minded, and I just had Taylor send someone over with a copy of the NDA and contract for her to look at. Maybe then she'll have a better idea of what I'm really about. Whether that'll swing her decision in my favor or not is yet to be determined.

I continue to try and get some work done, but my thoughts are on anything but business. I just want to get out of here and see that beautiful girl. I hold my breath and wait for the email telling me she's canceled tonight. That I'm disgusting, and she wants nothing to do with me ever again. That she hates me, and thinks I'm some sick pervert. That she wishes she never met me.

It never comes.

* * *

**(APOV)**

I'm nervously checking the clock as I wait for 6:00pm. Earlier, Kate and I talked and I told her the bare minimum of what happened between me and Christian – how we've finally started communicating with each other and hopefully taking some steps in the right direction. He didn't ask me to sign an NDA, but I don't want to tell Kate too much out of respect for him. She doesn't need to know anything just yet. If ever.

She's hesitant at how quickly I'm jumping back into his arms, but at the same time she understands that this is quite new for the both of us and we're just trying to find our footing with each other. She saw what a wreck I was when we broke up, and she can empathize with me, one perpetual romantic to another. Wanting to be understanding, she trusts me that I'm doing what's best for me, and offers her support despite her reservations. I tell her I won't be coming home tonight – _I hope I'm not being too presumptuous_ – and that I'll see her Monday morning before graduation.

Graduation. Another thing that has slipped my mind in the whirlwind that has been Christian Grey. He too will be there, handing out our degrees. Kate's actually thankful having the apartment to herself, she's surprisingly nervous about her valedictorian speech at Monday's ceremony. I tell her she has nothing to worry about, I've heard her speech a hundred times and it truly is a great piece. Kate commands attention, and she'll have everyone eating out of the palm of her perfectly manicured hand at Monday's commencement.

"I'll see you on Monday. Try to get some sleep this weekend." I tell her, and she smiles wickedly at me.

"You too." She smirks. If things go my way this weekend I don't see any actual sleeping happening, but I keep that bit of information to myself. "Don't forget the condoms!" She cackles, and I give her a cheeky grin. My purse is loaded and ready to go.

I take one last glance at myself in the mirror. I decided on a pair of black sateen shorts and a loose-fitting cream sweater that hangs off one shoulder after a train wreck of a meltdown. I know the demurely short shorts and the cobalt blue stiletto pumps will have him swooning at my feet. Sometimes he makes it too easy. Hidden underneath, I'm wearing a racy silk black bra and panty set and I snicker at the thought of Christian seeing me in them; last time we completely skipped the underwear part. Kate pops her head into my room on her way back to hers, giving me a smile of approval.

"You're gorgeous, babe. Don't ever forget that." She winks. I smile back, grateful for her abiding support. Earlier I slipped into a moment of panic when I couldn't figure out what to wear, deeming every piece of clothing between both our closets as stupid and un-wearable. The stress from everything I've read and learnt today, to the mounting anxiety I felt of not knowing what I should do finally came to a hilt and triggered a breaking point for me. Looking back in embarrassment, I'm glad Christian wasn't here to witness my earlier frenzy. He'd certainly leave me when he realized how fucked up I am. _We're both fucked up._

***Flashback – Earlier***

_"You're being ridiculous." Kate huffed after I threw yet another pile of clothes onto the bed, shaking my head in frustration. "You're being too picky. Any of these would look great on you."_

_"No they won't." I grumble, pushing her out of the way to look at whatever was left in her closet. _

_"Ana, what's going on?" She sighs, placing both hands firmly on my shoulders to keep me still. I try to wriggle away from her but she's relentless._

_"Your clothes are just stupid, that's all." I bite out. "Nothing fits me. I'm huge. I shouldn't have eaten earlier, god I can't fit into anything."_

_"That's just not true. Don't ever say that." She growls. She's seething; her barely contained anger on the verge of ripping me a new one. I don't care. "Would you calm down for just a minute? You're just going back to his apartment, not the red carpet. I really don't think he's going to care what you're wearing."_

_"I just don't want to look hideous. What if one look at me and he realizes he was better off staying away? What if he realizes I'm just not good enough? Maybe he thought up this image of me to be better than I actually was, and he'll see that tonight. I need just the right outfit or-" _

_"Or what? He's just going to up and leave? 'Damn, those pants just don't work with that shirt. Fuck this bitch, I'm out of here?'"_

_I purse my lips, giving her my best glare. I'm in no mood for her teasing, but all she does is raise a mocking eyebrow at me._

_"Lets be real here Ana, he's probably more interested in what's underneath than anything else. All you need are some clothes to get you from this apartment to his."_

_"But what if he doesn't? What if he _is_ judging me? I just…what am I doing? I'm so far out of my league with him." My resounding sigh bounces off the walls in the quiet apartment. I realize how dramatic I'm being, how erratic I'm flitting from one thought to the next. I hate that I can still easily fall into this pit, no exit in sight. This time I don't even know what set me off, but I went from excited to nervous to downright petrified the closer it got to six o'clock. _

_"Christian Grey wants _you_ Ana Steele. Get that through that pretty little head of yours, okay? I swear to god Ana, we're not doing this again. You need to get your head out of the ground and realize that you have so much to offer. Quit being the victim, because you're not. Not anymore."_

_The edge in her voice is deceiving. To anyone else she would sound rude, unsupportive, even callous. But to me, I know that this is her concerned voice. The voice she reverts to when she feels too much out of control, flailing with uncertainty. She doesn't know how to handle me when I get this way, and I regret putting her through this. Her stern green eyes meet my blue ones, begging me to just automatically snap out of my tailspin. "Please Ana." She whispers, and I slowly nod my head. "Please."_

***End Flashback***

When the doorbell rings I jump up eagerly to answer it. My stomach is a pit of butterflies, anxiously fluttering about with nerves and excitement. After Kate was able to talk me down from the ledge of my breaking point, she reminded me of the wonderful things I had to look forward to tonight. Christian, his sweet kisses, the heat of his stare, and a much more graphic description afterwards. I'm greeted by the ever handsome Christian Grey dressed in his work attire, a well-tailored light-grey suit and tie combination looking down-right edible. I bite my lip unknowingly, but am swiftly met by his narrowed eyes cautioning me, gently tugging on it with his thumb.

"That lip, Miss Steele." He warns in a seductive tone. I quiver in delight. "Ready to go?"

"Yes, Sir." I say coquettishly, his breath hitching audibly. His smoky grey eyes swim in heat, a swell of desire flooding me while my body aches for his slightest touch.

"Goodnight Miss Kavanaugh." He calls before pulling me out the door, his grip on my hand strong. My feet feel like lead as I stumble after him still lost in my decadent thoughts.

Hurriedly we make our way to the ever present SUV quickly clambering in. The door has barely shut before Christian is on me, hands, lips and tongue. A long, overdue moan spills out of me, his strong hands grabbing me, holding me, possessing me. Clawing me like he wants to be inside of me.

_Soon._

"Christian." I breathe, head tilted back as Christian trails his tongue along my exposed collar bone, his lips nipping at my skin. One hand rubs crudely between my legs, the other firmly squeezing my breast. I sigh his name again and reach my hand over to feel the front of his pants, smiling when I feel his erection, _hard just for me_.

The drive to his apartment is far too short, and all too soon the car is coming to a halt as we suddenly find ourselves parked in the garage of Escala. Stumbling out of the vehicle he chases after me as I step in the elevator, him hot on my heels. Punching in a code with his long, slender fingers his darkened grin gleams as the mirrored steel doors close behind him, effectively trapping us both. Grey eyes stalk my every breath hunting me, taking inventory of my every move.

The lit panel flicks as we pass each floor_…7, 8, 9..._ Slowly, he steps closer towards me, stance broad and demanding, daring me to move. I can't; I'm frozen in place with a burning desire coursing through me, ensnaring me, rendering me helpless. His answering leer tells me his astuteness to this fact, the heat of his body getting closer and closer.

"Anastasia." He purrs, the first words spoken in what feels like an eternity. _…20…21…22…_ "You've kept me distracted all day today. I haven't been able to get you out of my head. I've been thinking of all sorts of ways to pay you back for your lovely parting gift."

The ride up is nearly flammable – staring each other down with wanton need, ready to tear off clothes with our teeth. All I want to do is run my fingernails down his back and scream his name as my body tenses and jerks against him, my vicious release eliciting his own. Over and over and over again.

"I look forward to showing you what I've come up with, and believe me baby, it'll make your gift look like a muffin basket compared to my new convertible. Bow and all." The curl of his lips as he pins me with his stare has me mesmerized, staring hungrily at those lips. I plead silently for them to trail an incoherent path against my skin, claiming me as his. "But let it be known, I do enjoy muffins. Especially yours – warm, moist, delicious in my mouth." His dirty wink sends me into a ravenous state as I just about lunge forward tearing through his expensive suit to feel his skin against mine.

I'm relieved when we finally make it inside his apartment, the current flaming between us now able to breath. I try to walk steadily without my knees buckling, hoping for a modicum of dignity in the heat of this cloud I'm hopelessly trapped under.

"How was work?" I ask nonchalantly, mindful to keep some distance between us._ Breathe, breathe, breathe._

"Are you playing games, Anastasia?" He growls seductively, following each step I take. I continue to keep my distance, eyeing him cautiously as I try to regain my bearings.

"No, _Sir_." I say breathily, and that's all it takes for him to launch himself towards me in one swift and fluid motion, pushing me against the wall, absorbing the impact with his arms protectively behind me. I've barely finished my sentence when I feel his entire body cover mine. The smell of his skin stirs something deep inside of me, a throaty sound escaping my lips.

"You're playing a dangerous game." His warm breath caresses my cheeks, his forehead pressed against mine. I can feel the passion and tension radiating off his perfect chest, and I'm eagerly trying to relieve the ache between my legs by rubbing against him. His hips firmly press against me, his stiff cock throbbing against my soft stomach.

"Maybe _I want to play_."

A literal wave of cold air swoops over us, and just like that I've done something wrong. He pushes himself off me using the wall, and suddenly our sexually charged game of cat and mouse is over. An unnamed emotion flits across his face before he scrutinizes me. _What did I do?_

"Did you get the envelope I sent?" He asks coolly. I nod my head. He thins his lips, lost in thought.

Sighing, I reply, "I signed it for you. The NDA." I reach into my bag where I had folded it up neatly. I hand it to him, but he looks offended. Not the reaction I was expecting.

"That's not why I sent it to you." He snaps, startling me. "I just wanted you to read it."

"I know that." I snap back. "I just wanted you to know that I won't tell anyone what happens between us. It's nobody's business but our own anyways." He still doesn't take it from me, so I petulantly throw it at him. It bounces off his arm and flutters to the floor. "Why does it matter if I've signed it or not? Just take it." I huff.

Closing his eyes, he takes a deep, slow breath. I try to reel in my own temper, and after a few seconds we both stand there tiredly watching the other. His glare is fleeting, as if he's remembering who he's talking to. His face rearranges to a more neutral expression, but it's too late. I do not like being on the end of that glare.

"Did you have any questions? About what you read?" He questions calmly, ushering me towards the great room. Pouring us each a glass of crisp cold wine I take a glass and take a seat on one of the cream leather couches. Nervously, I take a few sips. I bite my lip and feel a small blush as I pull out my list. "That looks like a lot of questions." He muses, a faint smile on his lips. The coldness from his gaze is gone, a more inviting expression now in place.

"I just want to understand." I start, looking at the questions. He nods his head and I take in a deep breath. "Before we start, can I ask you something?"

"Of course. Anything." The ice cold air has left the room, the temperature returning to our normal. Warm, toasty, but quickly simmering to a boil. He waits patiently.

"Would you ever consider having a different relationship with me? A vanilla relationship?"

He smirks at me. "Vanilla?"

"It's a regular relationship…"

"I'm aware of its meaning." He chuckles.

"Right, of course." I'm easily flustered, overwhelmed as he watches me. No wonder he's so good at business and negotiations; his eyes are experts at making you bow to your knees and give him whatever he wants. He urges me to continue with a gentle nod of his head, but I find it hard to pull myself away from his stare. _Focus. Breathe. Speak. _"Would you ever consider having a vanilla relationship with me, but maybe with some of the things that you like to do?" I finally manage to get out, his sleek finger running back and forth over his bottom lip lost in thought. _Fuck, that lip._

Intrigued, he leans forward towards me. "Such as?"

"Well…I was looking through your contract, and there are some things that I wouldn't mind…doing… trying. I mean, I'd be okay if we tried different things once in a while…" I feel my entire face flame red with embarrassment.

"Ana." He says softly and obediently I look up. "I don't want you feeling like you have to do these things for me. I would never want you to be uncomfortable around me."

"That's just it." I mumble quietly. "I _don't_ feel uncomfortable around you; just the opposite. That's why I believe you'll take care of me – please me without hurting me. I read that one of the main roles of the Dominant is to ensure the submissive is taken care of – both in terms of safety and pleasure."

"It is." He murmurs, and I see his eyes brighten at what I'm proposing.

"Some of the things I read…I'd really like to try them."

He takes my hand, places my list on the table, and kisses my palm. "Like what?" He prods quietly. "What do you want?" He can barely contain his excitement at the prospect of me trying, his eyes twinkling with anticipation.

Oh god he's going to make me say it. "Well…I like it when you…_kiss me_ _down there_." I mumble awkwardly.

"Yes, I know." He beams. "I like it too."

I swallow nervously, eager to keep going before I chicken out. He squeezes my hand once in encouragement. "I don't think I'd mind if we used…toys. And spanking doesn't sound too bad…or being tied up…as long as it doesn't hurt too much." My mind switches to images of me tied up and at his mercy, causing an embarrassing amount of wetness to pool between my legs. My list sits helplessly on the table, his blinding grin all I can see. "I just…I just think that I'd be open to trying different things. I don't want you to get bored with me-"

"Stop right there." He booms, his voice deceptively quiet. "Don't. Don't ever go there." That same coldness from earlier has returned, but he keeps it at bay for the time being. _Shit, he can be scary._

"I'm just saying-"

"No. I don't need any of those things if I have you. End of story."

"Christian-" He shakes his head adamantly. "All I'm saying is that I _want _to try different things eventually. I think it'll be fun." I go for nonchalant, but his stare studies me intently, looking for any signs of a lie on my part. I'm nervous, but an excited kind of nervousness. "The only thing I ask is that I don't want to get hurt physically." I take a slow, anxious breath. "Or emotionally. I can't be humiliated or anything like that, that's non-negotiable. Um, a hard limit I think is what you called it."

"Ana-"

"I don't want to talk about it right now, but that's the only thing I ask. If you can promise me that, then I'm more than willing to accept your terms, contract, whatever it is you want. I just want us to be together. I just want you. However I can get you."

* * *

**(CPOV)**

I can't stop the mega-watt smile coming from my lips as she tells me the list of things she'd be open to try. _Toys, spankings, restraints…_ yes, I would love to do all those things with the delectable Miss Steele. Her cheeks are glowing red, squirming in her seat. _I wonder if she'd be open to trying some of those right now_.

"Hey," I cajole, urging her to look at me. I can tell how nervous she is, so I kiss her lips sweetly and straightaway feel her relax. "I think we can make this work." She's said a lot over the past few minutes, but the most important part was that she was willing to try. Everything else, we'll deal with it when we get there.

Her eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "Really?" She squeaks, and I nod my head before kissing her soundly.

"We can talk about it some more, but yes, maybe we can find a middle ground to start from." Honestly, I just can't wait any longer to feel her soft, warm, velvety body wrapped around me. What she's asking of me, and what she's willing to give of herself, it's beyond anything I could have ever imagined. I was certain she'd want nothing to do with me once she found out about my lifestyle, but as is the case with all things Ana she surprises me yet again.

"Does this mean you'll show me your playroom?" She asks hopefully, and I stare at her in disbelief. She _wants_ to go there?

I shake my head knowing it's too soon. I don't think _I'm _ready to go in there with her, and there's still a lot more we need to discuss before I take her in. I'm also concerned about her non-negotiable terms, her hard limits. There's much more to that story than she's letting on and I'm almost afraid to know what it is. But the thoughts are fleeting as she sits in front of me, stunning as ever. I must admit the prospect of taking her in there has my dick standing at attention and all other thoughts are pushed to the side. Already I'm thinking of scenes I would like to do with her in my playroom and the possibilities are endless. I want Ana in all ways imaginable.

She pouts in disappointment, but quickly recovers as I slip my hand between her legs. "Why don't we start off slow…_vanilla_…" I purr in her ear, and she readily nods her head.

I take her by the hand and we head towards the stairs before she scrambles back to grab her purse. I furrow my eyebrows in confusion, but she just shakes her head, smiling a secret smile. _Hmm. _

We get to the bed and I get an idea. We'll start her introduction into my world tonight. "Sit on the bed, your back against the headboard." I tell her, and she eagerly complies. _Perhaps there's hope for her yet_. I pull off her sweater and am greeted with the most tantalizing view of her perky tits dressed in silk. _Fuck, that's hot_. "Mmm, only silk for this sexy little body of yours from now on." I groan, lazily running one finger over her hard, silky nipple. I tell her to clasp her hands above her head, and make quick work of taking off my grey tie, tying her to the headboard.

Her eyes widen in surprise as she tugs on it, then bites the bottom of her lip suppressing a grin. _Oh yes, she's enjoying this as much as I am._

"Mmm, you look incredibly sexy tied up."

She narrows her eyes seductively, luring me in as her piercing baby blues gaze back at me. I tug on the tiny piece of clothing she calls shorts, and once again delighted to see her sweet little centre dressed in silk. I run my tongue along the seam of her panties; already she's soaking wet, readily tasting her through the sodden fabric. I have never liked going down on a woman before as much as I do her.

"I feel I owe you for this morning." She nods her head in anticipation. "Would you like that? Would you like me to…_kiss_ _you_ _down there_?" She nods once more, eye wide and cheeks flushed. "Say it. Tell me what you want."

Breathing heavily, her breasts bounce on her chest. Her voice is raspy as she speaks. "_Kiss me down there_. _Sir._"

I grin darkly. She has no idea what that word does to me. She's so turned on; she'll be coming before I even touch her. "Here?" I ask as I kiss the inside of her thigh.

"No!" She hisses.

"Here?" I kiss her other thigh. "Or here?" I kiss closer, mindful to avoid where she wants it most.

"NO!"

"Then where? Show me."

Her eyes fly towards me pointedly. "Christian…" She whines, but I shake my head.

"Show. Me."

She shyly points her finger to her sweet little pussy. I grin with mischief.

"Here?" I ask coyly, placing an open-mouthed kiss over her centre, and her body jerks off the bed in approval. "Mmm, yes. _Here_."

I peel off her panties, _fuck they're soaked_, and place the same open-mouthed kiss on her wet skin. She's soft and warm, the taste of her arousal glazing my lips and tongue. Moaning against her, I send deep vibrations through her body.

"Ahhh!" She cries, tugging on her restraint. I grip her clit with my teeth, gently biting. She screams a holy sound, and I briefly wonder if she'll go flying off the bed.

Spreading her legs as far as they'll go, I smirk in approval at how flexible she is; yes that will definitely help later down the road as I imagine her shackled to a spreader bar or my four-post bed. I bury myself inside of her, my tongue and lips eagerly stroking her slit. She mewls and pulls on her hands, eager for some sort of control as I pin her down and open. Her body's completely exposed to me, helpless against her impending orgasm. I plan on making sure she feels every last shudder when she comes, reminding her that me, and only me, has been the one to give her pleasure.

Then, wickedly, I sit up quickly and flip her so she's now on her knees, facing away from me.

Her eyes snap towards me over her shoulders, a hint of anger and confusion flashing across her face. Teetering on the edge of her orgasm I can feel her frustration; _I'm going to have so much fun teaching you my sweet girl_. Wrapping one arm around her waist, pinning her once again, I nudge her knees apart before plunging two fingers deep inside of her, my tongue caressing the shell of her ear as I hold her firmly against my chest. Immediately her body responds by tightening around my fingers denying their release. She screams a long, jagged scream when I add a third finger buried deep inside of her, my other hand coming to tease her clit, pinching, rubbing, flicking. Her body arches tightly as her muscles clench and clamp snugly around me. Plowing my fingers a few more times deep inside of her as she begs me to stop then begs for more in the same breath, it's not long before her body snaps and releases, her juices dripping down my fingers languidly. She lets out a flurry of noises and panting breaths, her body hot, sweaty and sticky.

I let go of her before parting her delectable ass and lapping up the evidence of her sweet orgasm as it trickles down her thigh. Tiny whimpers spill from her lips and her body continues to shake as I greedily clean her up with my tongue, satisfied by her response. Yes, her body knows how to please me in so many ways.

Head bent down on her restrained hands, her body goes limp. I quickly untie her and lay her down on the bed. She smiles up at me lazily, body spent. I massage her wrists, then her shoulders and quickly work down her body. Her moans of appreciation get me excited, but I must hold off on my own urges. Her performance was enough for the both of us, and I need to remind myself to slowly work her up to where I want her. She's going to need to build up her endurance and stamina, and I'm more than excited to be the one to train her. I'd much rather spend my time working over her body sweating it out in my bed than in any gym. Nothing beats watching the sweat drip down her tits, a shiny gleam of wetness all over her creamy skin.

"Kiss me." She pants, and I'm all too eager to oblige. She moans at the taste of her arousal on my lips, and it's the sexiest thing she could possibly do in that moment. Her tongue explores my mouth hungrily, curiously as she decides whether or not she likes the taste of herself, and I roam my hands greedily up and down her body. The feel of silk over her soft tits feels like heaven, and I squeeze hard causing her to yelp. Everything about her is so soft and smooth, the contrasting touch of her luxurious body under my strong hands fueling their errant path across her skin.

"Don't think I'm done with you yet." I whisper against her ear, her smile widening.

"What have I gotten myself into?" She teases, and I return the sentiment with a playful kiss on the lips.

"You have no idea."

* * *

**(APOV)**

I lie utterly spent after a weekend of hot, sweaty love-making with the most incredible man. Eyeing the clock, I realize it's 4:00am and that I need to be up in a few hours to get ready for graduation.

Looking over at Christian propped up on his side, I feel an overpowering shyness wash over me. We did all sorts of things to each this weekend, last night – this morning? – yet no longer under that spell of seduction, I feel my body blush at the memories.

After he tied me up we had regular vanilla sex and it was exquisite. We tried a few different positions, each one better than the last. I didn't even know I could bend or move in some of the ways Christian had me, a wonderful surprise for us both. Tying me up and blindfolding me was probably the highlight of my weekend. I felt his tongue explore every inch of my body, leaving me with the most delightful feeling of being cherished and wanted. Without my vision I was able to concentrate more on his touch, and it still leaves a lingering flame sizzling on my skin where his lips and tongue marked their territory.

I realize he's watching me, no doubt aware of my dirty thoughts as my entire body gives me away. His countering grin only worsens it, and I effectively bury my head in his neck to get away from his melting gaze.

Content with lying in silence in each other's arms, I can't help but wonder if this will be how it is between us. I hope we're able to find a middle-ground for the both of us, because now more than ever I find myself addicted to him. Craving him. Crazy for him. Needing him more than I care to admit to.

"Is it just my hands touching your chest that makes you nervous?" I ask suddenly, feeling him stiffen beneath me. He nods his head slowly, but I quickly reassure him with a warm smile. "Okay, I won't touch you with my hands then. But you're okay with this?"

"Yes, I think so." His confusion's clear as he tries to convince not only me but himself as well.

"Okay, I can live with that. Thank you."

"For what?"

I kiss his cheek then snuggle back into him. "For telling me. If there are things you like or don't like I want to know. I want to take care of you too."

* * *

**(CPOV)**

I feel like the Grinch towards the end of the movie where his heart begins to grow in size. Each moment I spend with Ana, I slowly, minutely, feel as if a heart might possibly exist deep down in my chest. When she says things like she _wants to take care of me_…it's a sentiment I've never heard before. Yes, Grace and Carrick took care of me, but I've never had anyone else say that to me. I've never had anyone _want _to take care of me; in a sense I was always the one taking care of others – my subs, my staff, my family. But the kind of care that Ana wants to give me is on a completely different level. She wants to care for me as her friend, partner, _lover._

She wants to truly take care of me – not just for sex, but _me_. The way she looks at me I know she sees my scars, and she feels my sadness. She wants to fix me. Heal me. _Save me_. Take away the pain the scars have left, and fill it with her humanity and kind-heartedness.

Placing a soft kiss on the top of her head, I let out a sigh of happiness, wondering how I ever got so lucky to have ever met her. She's in a class of her own, and I only pray that I don't fuck this up again. Of all the moments in my life leading up to this one precious meeting, I can only hope that my past and dark ways won't send her running out of my life again. I can't bear to imagine life without her, and the thought both terrifies me and fills me with new hope. Hope for me, hope for us.

* * *

**A/N:** Thank you for all the reviews/favorites/follows! I appreciate each and every review, and all of you who have taken the time to read :)


	14. A Long Time Ago

**A/N:** This is a background chapter, a deeper glimpse into Ana's past. Mildly dark, may be a little upsetting for some, discretion advised. Nothing graphic.

* * *

**CHAPTER 14 – A LONG TIME AGO**

_There's a place that I know_  
_It's not pretty there and few have ever gone._  
_If I show it to you now, will it make you run away?_  
_Or will you stay, even if it hurts?_  
_Even if I try to push you out, will you return?_  
_And remind me who I really am?_  
_Please remind me who I really am._  
_Everybody's got a dark side._

_-Dark Side (Kelly Clarkson)-_

* * *

**(APOV)**

Christian is asleep next to me, a rarity that hasn't occurred much this weekend. We've been locked away in his bedroom the past two days without a care in the world, our sole focus on getting to know each other. I wish all my weekends could be spent this way, pleasing him and learning new ways of introducing our bodies to one another.

Watching him sleep, he looks so peaceful and calm, something I know he rarely is. I make a note in my head to find out some of the things he likes to do to relax, perhaps something that we can do together.

The ping of my phone alerts me and I reach over to see that Ray has left me a message saying how excited he is to see me at graduation. There was never any doubt in my mind that he wouldn't be there but I'm happy nonetheless for his confirmation. As I reply back, I'm eager for the morning to come so I can see him. Ray has always been the one person in my life I knew I could depend on 100% without fail. He's the only one who has ever mattered to me, and I to him.

As such, I will always be a daddy's girl. Over the years I've tried maintaining some semblance of a relationship with my mom but it's been strained at best and nonexistent at its worst. I was much closer to Ray growing up as he decided to stay home and raise me while my mom, eccentric and flighty, dabbled in everything. At the time I thought she was the coolest mom because she could do everything, but as I grew older I realized how wrong I was. She was a mess, unable to keep at anything for longer than a few weeks; everything she's ever started remaining unfinished. Her lack of focus and drive was maddening, unable to commit to anything. Not even to small things like a promise to go shopping on the weekend or a movie night. I couldn't rely on her to the point where anytime she said she'd do anything I knew it wasn't going to happen. Her word came to mean nothing to me, my faith in her lost, her presence a faint and often fuzzy memory throughout my childhood. To this day I still can't remember the last time she's followed through on something that meant anything to me, her upcoming absence to my graduation yet another glaring example.

Mom and Ray divorced when I was 11. I loved Ray, he was my _real_ father, biological or not, and I hated leaving him. Over the next two years I was bounced from house to house, city to city as she chased after her ingenious "business" ideas and pursuit for love. She thought she was living this fabulous life chasing after a non-existent dream, and I hated the fact that she never took a goddamn minute to consider how I would feel about any of this: not being able to see Ray on a regular basis, strange men coming into our house, her running off with them for days at a time leaving me to take care of myself. I never forgave her for that, for taking me away from Ray only to leave me all by myself in unfamiliar places.

When I got older I would later learn that their marriage stopped being about love long before they divorced. It's a disclosure I still struggle with, knowing what a love-less marriage they were both trapped in. Yet Ray had been determined to make it work for my sake. I realize how selfish I was in blaming my mom for ending it and wanting them both to stay in that type of marriage for me, but I wished she had at least tried to make it work the same way Ray had. He had always put me first even above his own happiness. But with her, her own happiness always took precedence over mine. It always made me feel dreadfully unwanted by her, unable to understand why she would never take me into consideration before making these decisions for the both of us. I often questioned why she even bothered to have me around; it was obvious how off-putting it was to her boyfriends that she had a kid. My mom was young and beautiful so it was easy to see why men would find her attractive, but the minute they knew of my existence it was a sure-fire way to send them running the other way. But even then she refused to let me live with Ray, because she didn't want him to have me. It wasn't about _her wanting me_, but the fact that she did want anyone else to have me.

We moved to LA when I was 13, my mom chasing some hotshot banker-actor-model-something-or-other. I fought with her for weeks leading up to the big move, hysterical at the idea of being so far away from Ray. Up until that point we had never really left the Washington area, and Ray was always a few hours away. As such, each night I would scream the house down begging her not to do this, not to make me leave Ray for good, but she never listened. Her only response had been an equally and embarrassing tantrum of her own, leaving the both of us in a stand-off of stubborn wills. Of course Ray, the ever present adult in my life, was the only one able to calm me down and reason that this would be okay. Everything would be okay, and we'd find a way to see each other. Though he tried to get her to reconsider, she was having none of it. What Carla Wilks wants, she fucking well gets.

LA turned out to be the worst year of my life. I struggled with the adjustment of moving from Montesano to LA, a city known for status and vanity and everything I wasn't. At the time of the move it had been during the middle of the school year, another oversight on her part. I struggled to fit into a place where I so very much stuck out – awkward and clumsy and at an age where I had no control over the changes happening to my body. We couldn't afford designer clothes, I didn't _want _those types of clothes to begin with, nor did I wear makeup or know what the latest styles were. I didn't care about looking like all the girls in the teen magazines, yet that's all anyone ever did here. While they strutted around looking like the pop stars in their magazines, I was too busy trying to cover up the growing swell of my breasts and the curve of my hips as I hit puberty full-steam ahead, leaving my lanky, stick-thin pre-pubescent figure behind. While they were in training bras from the junior stores, I was buying B-cup bras from the ladies department. While they were putting on makeup to look older, I wore none so that older men wouldn't look at me. And when the weather warmed up and everyone was in shorts and tank tops, I was in long-sleeve shirts and jeans afraid of who would be looking at me. I didn't look like any of the 13-year olds and I hated how different I was from everyone else. I didn't want _men_ looking at me, yet that's exactly what they did.

The neighbourhood we lived in was family-oriented with out-dated values. The fact that my mom was a divorcee and a single-parent chasing after a younger man with money painted us in a terrible light. I was further judged for not having a dad; I _had_ a dad, Ray, but it didn't matter because he wasn't there and because he wasn't _really_ my dad. Not my biological one at least, therefore I was known as the orphaned child. _The bastard. _The one whose daddy left her_. _It didn't help that my mom flaunted her relationship with the banker and his wealth like she was some kind of trophy. She was shameless in making a spectacle of herself, ignoring the murmurings around her. In her mind, if people were talking about her she was doing something right.

The kids were just as bad, if not worse, in their perverse sense of values and entitlement. Making friends was hard enough for someone as shy and self-conscious as I was, but it didn't help moving around so much that I never really learned how to make friends in the first place. Instead, I had always opted to keep my head down and wait until the next move knowing I wouldn't be staying there long. But, much to my surprise, on the first day of school I was asked by a group of girls to be their friend. It was the first time in my life that I had actual friends. Plural.

We sat together during classes and at lunch talking about music and TV, and I'd pretend to care about clothes and makeup. They would tell me which boys were cute, and we'd laugh at each other's jokes. Everything seemed perfect and to fall neatly into place, a feeling of belonging finally settling in. I had people to hang out with after school and on the weekends, and I didn't have to worry about sitting by myself at lunch.

In all my naivety, I was oblivious to the fact that they were simply using me, priming me for an epic downfall. It took a few weeks before my nightmare, the vivid memories that still keep me up some nights, was executed for everyone else's entertainment.

* * *

_"I don't understand why you wear such baggy clothes. Are you poor or something? Is that why your mom is dating that banker?" Marley, with her long blonde hair, bright blue eyes, and creamy white skin asked one day at lunch. She was the most popular girl at school – thin, pretty, with super-rich parents. She was the self-appointed Queen Bee and ruler of the school, everyone else be damned. She chomped on her gum as she waited for me to answer her offending question, tactless in wanting to get a reaction from me. She was relishing in the attention being thrown her way as a few of the surrounding tables were now watching us. A smackdown was about to happen and unfortunately for me, I was on the receiving end of it._

_Marley had been upset with me for not going to her pool party over the weekend. No one's ever turned her down before, but I just couldn't bring myself to put on a swimsuit in front of all of them. I felt too ashamed and embarrassed knowing I couldn't fit into any of the cute swimsuits they would all be wearing. I had tried on a few beforehand, but nothing would fit my growing chest and small waist. I felt like a freak, oddly proportioned. Half-girl, half-woman. And of course my mom was never around to help me figure out just how to dress my new body, abandoning me in my time of need. _

_Everyone else at the table snickered, my face flaming with embarrassment. I looked down at what I was wearing: though I was wearing my usual fair of jeans, sneakers, and a hoodie, they were nice enough. They didn't have holes in them or anything else that would make me look 'poor', but Marley thought otherwise. When I compared outfits, I could see her perfectly cut and tailored clothes to her little body showing off her flat chest and flat stomach. I was jealous that she looked like that, like everyone else did, and I looked like _me. _I wished the ground would just swallow me whole, pulling me from their uncomfortable stares. _

_"You know you can't dress like that here. I just don't understand why you wear such ugly clothes. Unless you're trying to hide something? Are you pregnant? Or is it because you're kind of…fat? I mean you do eat a lot. Didn't your mom ever teach you about counting calories? You really should learn to not eat so much; it's disgusting how you just eat whatever you want. It's not at all attractive how you just shove everything into your face. No one will ever like you if you're bigger than them." She turned her nose up in disgust, prompting the other girls to do the same. I looked down at my turkey sandwich with lettuce and tomato, which I thought was healthy, but apparently not. I then glanced at her meager lunch of a few carrot sticks and small salad. I felt like a beast next to her, even though we probably weighed the same. "Maybe LA isn't the place for you. You just don't belong here."_

* * *

From that day forward I was no longer their friend but the girl at the bottom of the social hierarchy. Once on Marley's Shit List, all bets were off. By then everyone in school had heard about the lunch where she humiliated me and called me out, and everyone knew who I was but for all the wrong reasons. Marley made it her mission to guarantee I knew I wasn't welcomed in the most hideous ways possible. Everyone would come to know me as the _poor, dumb, fat, ugly_ girl from Montesano, with the gold-digging mom and no dad. They used everything they could against me, nothing left untouched. From my biological dad leaving me, the fact that Ray was a stay-at-home dad because he was _nothing_ after the army, to my _slut of a mom_. I too got branded with the name _slut_ after Marley dumped her lunch all over me one day. I pulled off my hoodie to get the hot soup off of me, but then Marley ripped off the shirt I had underneath in front of everyone in the cafeteria, revealing my black bra and my breasts spilling out of it.

Everyone stared at my chest, howls and whistles from the boys, sneers of disgust from the jealous girls. Mortified, I ran faster than I ever had in my entire life in that moment trying to recover a modicum of dignity from having my body so crudely put on display. Pictures quickly spread around the school, camera phones all the rage those days, and rumors of me stuffing my bra to get people's attention further added to my humiliation. I became a cliché as the girl who tries too hard to make up for how poor and ugly I really was.

When I wasn't being teased for being fat or ugly or poor, the boys would leer at me and make snide comments about what they wanted to do to me. How they wanted to _fuck me, cum on me, make me blow them, have sex with me and make everyone watch. _They would 'accidentally' bump into me in the hallways grabbing me as the girls looked on in disgust, saying I was _begging for it, _my breasts an invitation for them to do as they pleased_._ They even went as far as making comments about having me against my will, sniggering to themselves as they high-fived one another. I was horrified that they would actually think something like that, even more so that they might actually do it.

The girls were ruthless in their own ways, not bothering to hide their whisperings behind my back. Names such as _bitch, hoe_ and _skank_ often took the place of a 'hello'. And when they really wanted to hurt me, they would hurl out the words _slut_, _whore_, and _cunt_ my way because I _deserved it. _Relentless in their attacks against me, I became the prime target for them to belittle and slander, laughing at my expense as I sobbed and cried and sniffled back against their degrading words, a camaraderie forming between them like some sort of sick bonding ritual. While I was being ripped apart piece by piece, new alliances were forming and everyone joined in on finding new ways to utterly humiliate me.

They continued to torment, harass, and abuse me for months. They would push me in the hallways, spit on me, yell in my face. Their favorite pastime was surrounding me, cornering me, trapping me and teasing me until I cried, curling up in a ball on the ground to protect myself from the harsh cut of their words and hands. I was slapped in the face, kicked in the stomach, tripped on the sidewalks, and shoved against lockers. Every single day was the same, not one person standing up for me or offering to help. Whether it was because they believed Marley's cruel lies or because they themselves were afraid to join me on her List, it didn't matter. I was alone in this heinous world, no one to rescue me. Not even the teachers, or _my own fucking mother,_ did anything, choosing ignorance that this wasn't _really_ happening. I was being _too sensitive_ to the teasing; I was being _too dramatic_ in wanting attention; it was _all in my head_ and that I was making most of it up because I came from a broken home_._ My blood still boils when I think about how they justified their ignorance, their refusal to take responsibility that more should've been done to keep this from escalating.

The thought of LA permanently leaves a bad taste in my mouth, a terrifying nightmare I managed to just barely live through. I've never talked about what happened in LA with anyone except for my parents and Kate. Even after years of therapy, I know deep in my heart that I'll never be able to fully erase those wretched memories. The damage they did was irreparable, the lingering effects continuing to haunt me as I sometimes can still hear the bite of their words, see their menacing glares, feel the sting of their hands on me.

With each passing week the bullying escalated, to the point where it had gotten so severe I had had enough. I couldn't take another day living like this, my heart unable to handle another vicious word. I was walking home from school one day in tears after another one of Marley's infamous _you're a disgusting pig _rant. She finished off her performance by throwing mud on me so I couldn't get on the bus, and I was too embarrassed to do anything else. It didn't matter that it would take me over an hour to walk home; I just couldn't be around her or anyone else any longer.

I don't remember much of what actually happened, but I remember taking a handful of prescription pills and stealing some of my mom's liquor before I was found on the front porch. I hadn't meant to take so many, I just wanted a break from reality and some sort of relief from the pain that even breathing brought me, but it was too late. I had taken too much. I was brought in through emergency when a neighbor passing the house found me unconscious on the ground and called 911. At the height of my crisis when I finally woke up I was hysterical, frantic and threatening to kill myself if they didn't let me leave the hospital. I was terrified of being there, but it didn't take long for them to place me under psychiatric care, diagnosing me with major depression, panic and anxiety disorders, physical and emotional abuse, post-traumatic stress, self-harm and suicidal ideations. It was nearly laughable how for months everyone was saying there was nothing wrong with me, _no one believing me, _and now I was given a set of diagnoses a mile long to prove just how fucked up I was. _And just how wrong they all were_. I almost wanted to gloat in my fucked-up head that finally I was right. Now they _had_ to listen to me.

I stayed at the hospital for nearly two and a half months. I had finally broken down, crippled into a state of shock. The first few weeks I was heavily medicated because nothing else was working. I wasn't stable enough for talk therapies, groups or any of the other treatments, and I had become aggressive, an insurgence of panic detonating inside of me and controlling my actions. I would scream and cry and wail for hours at them to leave me alone, how much I hated it there, and that all I wanted to do was die. I was a mess, vowing that once I got out of there I would do it again with purpose, effectively ending this perpetual nightmare. That only granted me a longer stay, it being clear that I was still very much a danger to myself.

After the hospital, I wasn't ready to go home and back towards the trigger environments so I spent a few weeks in a recovery treatment facility for close observation. Again, as much as I hated being there, I knew it needed to happen. When I wasn't preoccupied with trying to ward off my suicidal thoughts, I would stay in my room for days at a time, panic-stricken and anxious about being around other people that I wondered if they would send me back to the hospital because I wasn't getting any better. I was getting worse. I became mute, afraid of being judged by this new group of people, not wanting to give them any ammunition to bully me again. It took weeks before I even started talking to my therapist, a punishing effort on my part to re-live everything I had just gone through.

I've lived with the residual effects of Marley's bullying ever since, a constant battle against the enduring doubts I carry about myself, my body, and my own worth. When I look in the mirror I still have to fight the urge to listen to the fat commentaries reeling through my head telling me I need to lose weight and that I will always be _too fat_. Or when I find myself surrounded by a group of people I need to remind myself that they're not going to attack me just to see me fall into a panic-induced paralysis on the ground so they can laugh at me. And when I hear people whispering, I have to stop myself from presuming they're discussing new ways to make me cry, eagerly anticipating my destruction for their amusement. It's been a toss-up of good days and bad ever since, my mantra to take things one day at a time always on repeat, though some days it's far too faint for me to hear or completely ignored.

I'd like to believe I've come a long way since then, the road to recovery and acceptance a slow and daunting journey, something I'll always have to work at. With age comes insight, and I'm better able to recognize my triggers to prevent them from spiraling out of control. It's exhausting and punishing some days, but I'm always cognizant of the little things that can upset me. Had it not been for Ray and later Kate, I'm often afraid to think of what would have become of me. And when I think about Christian, had I ended my life back then, I never would have had the chance to meet him now. I never would have known how it would have felt like to be kissed and touched by him, or see that hope still exists, that someone like Christian with his own scars and nightmares plaguing him can become something so great and wonderful.

My mom and the banker broke up a few months afterwards as things worsened and my mom was forced to take her role as a parent more seriously. Ray had been absent during my time in LA, and at the time I remember wondering why he had suddenly disappeared. I would constantly beg my mom to call him so we could talk but she said she was always unable to reach him. That he was working, or busy, or traveling. It had been months since I so much as heard a word from him but I always held out hope that I would hear from him one day. It wasn't until later that I found out she had cut off all contact I had with him. Because she had full custody of me, he wasn't allowed to see me if she didn't want him to, and he had to respect her wishes that he stay away. Heartbroken, he took to traveling to take his mind off of me, though he did admit to having tried to contact me a few times despite her threats to take legal action against him.

For the longest time he was unaware that anything was amiss with me, oblivious to the wars I was facing alone. While I spent every day praying for Ray, he was doing the same. For her own selfish reasons my mom was determined to keep us apart. She never told Ray what was happening to me, afraid of what he would do once he found out. Once again she was more concerned about what would happen to _her_. Not how this would affect Ray or what would happen to me, but to _her._

It wasn't until I was in the hospital that she finally called him, unsurprisingly that she didn't know how to handle this. She had spent that past 13 years without a clue of how to parent me, and now more than ever I needed her. Ray was on the next flight out and stormed through LA until he found me, vowing to never leave my side for another moment as long as he lived. He was livid, furious, frantic, but worst of all devastated that he hadn't been around when I needed him most. At times nearly inconsolable, we would sit in my hospital room crying for hours, him lamenting his sorrow that I had gone through all of this alone and that he hadn't been there to protect me. It was heart-wrenching to see my hero, my dad, so broken all because of me.

During those months in the hospital I saw a side of Ray I never saw before. When he wasn't barreling through a breadth of emotions, he would vacillate from protective father to drill sergeant as he barked orders to staff and the like, demanding I receive the best care possible. He used his army favors to ensure I was seen by the best doctors in Washington that specialized in post-traumatic stress, panic and anxiety disorders once I moved back. He also found a specialist that dealt with body-image, proving to be an all-consuming choreographed effort to enlist the right people to help me cope with everything so I never uttered another word about wanting to _just end it_. He gave my mom the ultimatum that I would return home with him, and if she so much as thought about fighting him on it he would take her to court to prove how unfit she was to care for me. He was determined to do absolutely everything he could to ensure I was safe at home with him, and I knew he meant every last word. My knight in shining armour. The man who saved me. My Ray of hope, of light, of life.

For a while after things went back to 'normal'. I was back in Montesano with Ray and seeing a regular psychiatrist. I technically still had to live with my mom since she was the one who had full custody of me, but Ray found a home for us that was close enough to him that I would get to see him every day anyways. It was perfect as I would spend most of my days at his house, only going home to sleep and the occasional dinner with my mom. Ray ensured he was always available to me, home whenever I was just so we could talk. Or not talk. Whatever I wanted, he was there and ready. We would spend hours together doing nothing, or he'd read to me and teach me how to cook, how to fix things, and how to fish on weekends. He even took me driving a couple times. He was the best form of therapy for me knowing that I had at least one person in the world who wanted me. And it was never about him and his issues, like it had been with my mom at home; instead he focused on helping me recover and bringing normalcy back to my life.

I was placed into a good school where I was able to fly under the radar for the rest of junior high. Life settled down and I was able to live a dull boring life, just as I had wanted. My mom continued to date and things remained tense between us at the best of times, though Ray warned her about bringing strange men to the house now that I was becoming more and more of a woman. He didn't like the fact that I was growing up quickly, and he made it clear how uncomfortable he was in having those men around the house alone with me. Of course it didn't stop her from dating, and I spent more and more nights at Ray's.

It wasn't until the shot-gun wedding to husband #3 when I was 16 that I had had enough and moved in with Ray permanently. Husband #3 had always made me feel uneasy, looking at me a little too long, standing a little too close. He always made comments about how pretty he thought I was and that I didn't look 16. Though he had never tried anything, a few times I thought he might have, so I found any excuse to sleep over at Ray's so I wouldn't have to be alone with him.

One night I had gotten into an argument with husband #3. He didn't like me spending so much time at Ray's, and felt it was his duty as my new step-dad to tell me who I was allowed to see. I was furious, _who the fuck was he to tell me I wasn't allowed to see my dad_, and it only riled him up even more. He wanted me home so he could ogle me, the sick fuck that he was. He had a vicious temper and my arguing sent him into a tailspin. He threw the glass tumbler he had been drinking scotch out of against the wall next to me, barely missing my head. Shattered glass rained over me; luckily the worst I suffered was a few shallow cuts except for one. I had bent down to cover myself but a large shard of glass cut into my hip leaving a scar. It was hardly noticeable since my skin was so fair, but I knew it was there; a terrible reminder of him marking my skin forever.

That marriage had been toxic, abusive, and volatile. They married quickly, and it ended just as fast. Ray refused to let me be around that kind of environment, their constant fighting too triggering for my fragile state of mind. To this day my mom never talks about that short-lived marriage, and for once I was glad that she had gotten yet another divorce. It was during that marriage when I decided to cut-off all contact with my mom, no longer able to handle the stress of living with her. For all the progress I was trying to make, I constantly felt pinned down when I was with her. She wasn't supportive like Ray was, and I felt like I was having to take care of her when it should have been the other way around. It was too much for me to handle, and I was afraid of her bullshit overwhelming me. Now that I was 16, I was old enough that my mom knew she couldn't bully me into living with her like she had done so before. I was ready to fight her if it ever came to that, Ray standing loyally behind me.

It wasn't until I turned 18, after nearly two years of zero contact with her that I decided to let her back into my life. Starting college and having to leave Ray, I was feeling homesick and needing her affection more than ever. I knew I would always have Ray's, but for some inexplicable reason I was needing hers too. She was dating Bob at the time, whom she'd later marry, and he was good for her. He grounded her and got her help, something she needed desperately. It was just enough for us to start talking again though we still had spades to go. I worry I'll always struggle with trying to forgive her and her lackluster parenting skills, meanwhile trying to absolve the blame I often feel for her knowing she's had her own troubles over the years.

Throughout college, Kate had become my sounding board, my reality check, my voice when I couldn't find mine. Balancing the added stressors of achieving my academic dreams so I could land my dream job in publishing with maintaining my on-going recovery, it was a struggle being around so many triggers. Moving away from Ray, intense anxieties sitting in large lecture halls, and the pressures of keeping my grades up was at times a harrowing ordeal. Without Ray around to ground me and talk me through my traumatic episodes, I felt bereft knowing he was so far away. Kate immediately took me under her protective wing, a safe place for me to go to when I got overwhelmed. It was during those late nights where all my insecurities would come out into plain view – _I'm fat, I'm ugly, I'm stupid, nobody wants me, everyone would be better off without me – _that she would sit with me until I fell asleep, safe and secure from myself and others. She became a second mom in that regard, _or first,_ as she kept a vigilant watch over me, loyal and protective and present for me.

I sigh as I roll over and realize how long I've spent rehashing memories I'd much rather forget. I feel exhausted and slightly anxious, though I remind myself that that's all in the past. The reminder of Christian next to me confirms this, and I take a deep, settling breath. I snuggle into Christian's sleeping body, his arm coming round to pull me in though his eyes never open.

"What are you doing awake?" He mumbles sleepily, burying his head into my hair. His deep raspy sleep voice tingles my insides as I try not to react.

"Nothing." I mumble back, closing my eyes.

"Mmm, go back to sleep then. Unless you'd rather do something else?" I feel his hips press against mine, a slow rumble in his chest as I impishly push him away.

"God, you never quit do you?"

"Ne-ver." He drones slowly, his eyes finally blinking open to greet me. They're still sleepy, but the wicked glint in the grey of his eyes tell me he's more than awake.

His sexy grin erupts across his beautiful face as he realizes I'm not all that invested in going back to sleep, pulling me on top of him. I feel him underneath me, ready and willing.

"You're insatiable, Mr. Grey." I breathe, hands trailing up and down his warm skin. The heat of his body is enough to place a soothing balm over my weary heart allowing me to bury the resurgence of terrible feelings my past has left me. It's not a cure, though a much needed distraction to keep my mind from spiraling any further.

"My apologies, Miss Steele." He feigns, before eliminating the gap between our bodies as all my senses become consumed by him. _His taste, his smell, his sounds_. We become lost in a warm tangle of arms and legs, skin on skin, as the sun begins to rise on yet another day. The symbolism of a new day and a new beginning aren't lost on me as I bury myself in his embrace, his affections, and his sweet, slow love-making.

* * *

**A/N:** Thank you for all the reviews/favorites/follows! I appreciate each and every review, and all of you who have taken the time to read :) I've been slacking on my updates and PM's, my apologies!


	15. Graduation

**CHAPTER 15 – GRADUATION**

_Maybe I'm a girl and maybe I'm a lonely girl_  
_Who's in the middle of something_  
_That she doesn't really understand_

_Maybe I'm a girl and maybe you're the only man_  
_Who could ever help me_  
_Baby, won't you help me understand_

_-Maybe I'm Amazed (Jem)-_

* * *

**(APOV)**

We never do end up falling back asleep, time better spent tracing over each others' bodies, exploring new places to kiss and touch. I trail a lazy finger up and over each little bulge and dip in his arm before sweeping it over across his collar bone, finally tracing up his throat to caress his lips. I do this over and over, each time rewarded by his humoring smile, his lips pouting to give my fingers a sweet kiss.

With just the hint of daylight outside, I sigh happily, the warmth of his body next to me creating a quiet reverence around us. How anyone gets anything done when they can be doing this all day is a mystery; I would lie in the arms of this man all day and not feel at all guilty about it. The warm hues from the rising sun creates the perfect ambiance against the plain walls surrounding us, intimately wrapped up in each other and tucked away from the outside world. Nuzzling my cheek against the smooth planes of his shoulder, I brush my lips against his hard body. "I wish we didn't have to get up." I murmur tiredly. "I've had the most wonderful weekend."

"Me too. Thank you."

"For what?"

"Everything." He says almost wistfully.

"You don't have to thank me for anything." I kiss him slowly and unhurried.

His gaze settles upon me, genuine and inviting. "It's just, this has been the most amazing weekend. You're amazing. I'd really like to do this again, soon."

I smile brightly, nodding my head in agreement. I'd really like that too.

* * *

When we finally do get out of bed we both agree on separate showers or we'll never leave this penthouse. I watch in keen interest as he dresses – unsuccessfully attempting to get dressed at the same time. For each piece of clothing he puts on, I want to take one off. He pulls on a navy pin-stripe 3-piece suit and _the_ grey tie from our sex-fueled weekend. I blush all over as I watch him tie it around his neck, squeezing my legs tightly to quench the ache that tie would now forever bring me. He smirks knowingly as he straightens the lapel of his blazer before asking me how he looks. All I can manage is a meek smile before scurrying to finish dressing myself, panting in the privacy of his large walk-in closet where the full-length mirror is mounted and my outfit is hanging.

Standing in my pale pink bra and underwear set, I slip into a sleeveless blush pink shift dress with a high neckline and v-neck slit down the front. Cinched at the waist, the skirt of the dress flares out along my hips. Stepping into my navy peep-toe pumps with a thin strap around the ankles, I stand tall flattening the dress against my body. Christian walks in and eyes the glimmer of my breasts longingly as he helps me put on my necklace – a simple outline of a heart in gold with a tiny diamond on the left side that Ray gave me for my high school graduation. It's simple and plain, but I love it all the same as if it were an expensive piece of jewelry just knowing it came from him. He had spent weeks trying to find something 'just right', and when he saw the necklace he knew it was me. And it was. Understated and modest, wonderful on its own he had said when he gave it me. I smile as I trace over the cool pendant, excited to see him today. I add a few thin gold bangles to my wrist before spinning around once for Christian. He smiles in approval.

"It's impossible for you to look anything other than beautiful." He croons against my lips. "Today's a big day. I'm so proud of you."

* * *

After a quick breakfast Taylor takes us back to my apartment so I can finish getting ready, picking up Kate on the way.

Stepping into the apartment Kate's already mulling about anxiously as she runs through her speech whilst applying her makeup. I peak my head into her room to let her know I'm here before going to my own. Laying out what I need I hear Kate step out of her room, the heels of her stilettos clacking loudly on the hardwood floor, her staccato clicks resound determinedly throughout our otherwise quiet apartment. When it stops, I hold my breath knowing she must be in the living room with Christian and I open my door just wide enough to hear. _Please don't kill each other._

I don't hear anything for a while, but I know they're in the same room. Kate had been pretty upset with him the last time they talked, that dreadful day I walked out of his apartment. I know she has her reservations about him – she will always be Team Ana, but she was also the one who told me to give him another chance. I just hope they can at least be civil for my sake.

"Katherine, is there something you'd like to say to me?" He breaks the silence, his tone cool and collected. They both have such strong personalities; I dread the impending clash. Both are too stubborn, too strong-headed, too controlling to take any crap from each other. I would almost challenge that Kate could very well be a female version of Christian, that knowledge only heightening my apprehension.

"It's Kate, for starters." She retorts, and I can just imagine him biting his tongue.

"Kate." He mollifies.

"I just want it to be clear that Ana is my _best_ friend. She's my _sister_, my _family_. And you've already hurt her once, and that's not okay with me." Cue her patent glare of disapproval. "Now I don't know what all happened, and Ana said she's as much to blame, but it doesn't change the fact that she came home crying that day a complete wreck."

"I know Kate, I messed up." He admits unevenly, his confession open and honest. "I'm really trying here."

After reading his letter, his confessional words forever etched on my heart, I can appreciate just how hard this is on him. As scared and nervous as I am being in my first relationship, I have to remember he feels the same way. Both being so new to this yet jumping in full tilt, it has all the makings of being something disastrous, but at the same time the potential to become something so beautiful, so once-in-a-lifetime that I'm eager to push through with a voraciousness so unknown to me just to find out what it'll be like. Because somewhere deep in my heart, as elementary and novel as our being together is, I just know greatness is entwined in our feelings for one other. It's inexplicable, incomprehensible, chaotic and frenzied, yet makes absolute sense. At least to me it does.

"You better be trying, and you better not mess this up." She warns. "I know guys like you. We grew up the same: you grew up with money and you're trained to be a smooth-talker which is why you're such a good businessman. But I also know your type is fluent in bullshit and that's why I'm not going to let you walk all over Ana. She's not from where you and I are from. She didn't grow up to be conniving and manipulative like we did. I've spent the last four years making sure shady guys like you didn't step within a 10-foot radius of her. So help me Grey, if you hurt her again, I won't hesitate in making sure you regret it."

I dash out of my room in time before the bloodshed. I see Kate standing tall with her hands on her hips, lips pursed. Christian stands opposite of her, arms crossed and a cold deadpan stare. It's clear that neither is willing to play nice or back down until they both notice me. Immediately, Christian's stance relaxes as he drops his arms and smiles warmly at me. The shift is instantaneous and I wonder how he can possibly switch so convincingly and so quickly.

He takes the few steps towards me before whispering in my ear, "You look lovely," kissing my cheek gently. I mumble a shy thank you before looking over at Kate who eyes us warily. I know she has more to say, but I'm afraid it'll only make things worse before making them better. I decide to heed it while we're ahead, saving this conversation for another time.

"I see you're both still alive. Good. Shall we get going?" Without waiting for an answer, I'm already dragging Christian towards the door, Kate following behind.

* * *

I meet up with Ray as soon as we get there, both Kate and Christian having to head in early to get ready. It's been a while since I've seen Ray, not since our first day in the apartment where he welcomed us to our new home, and I'm eager for some much needed alone time with him.

"Annie, I'm so proud of you!" He beams happily, wrapping his burly arms around me. I squeal in childish delight, hugging him tightly. Ray Steele is a bear of a man – tall frame nearly 6"4, broad stance, ex-army personified. He's mastered The Hug – just tight enough to let me know how much he loves me without crushing me with his weighty arms snaked around me. His beaming grin is nearly blinding as I match mine to his, both of us grinning stupidly at one another. No one can make me smile the way he can when he's around; he was the most doting father a girl could ask for and I thank my lucky stars every single day that Ray came into my life, loving me as if I were his own flesh and blood, not of some other man.

It's easy to become intimidated by this beast of a man. He has a daunting, taciturn quality about him that makes even the most confident of men stutter in his presence. He has seen great tragedies, horrors, and unspeakable things during his time in the army, so he's had to learn quickly how to turn-off those whispers of visions that sometimes reappear. But his greatest calamity, his greatest heartbreak never came from being in battle. It was finding me in LA, my life hanging delicately in the balance in that cold, sterile hospital room. And it's that image that leaves a melancholy look in his brown eyes every time we see each other, a silent apology and prayer for what he couldn't protect me from and his promise to protect me now.

Despite his tough appearance and daunting stance to others, I always knew he was nothing but a giant teddy bear. Even when he got mad, he always kept a certain level of gentleness about him, making sure I understood why he was upset. In a sense him and Christian share that same quality – tough, hard exteriors, but beneath the layers lay hearts too big for their own good.

Having him here now, I can't help but reminisce on a torrent of memories of him in attendance at every one of my ill-attempted dance recitals, school plays or soccer games. Far too clumsy and lacking the better part of coordination to be any good at most things, none of that mattered as Ray made sure he was seated front and centre ready to cheer me on. Every. Single. Time. At times his cheering would often be more embarrassing than my attempts at whatever it was I was into at the time, and we'd share a big laugh afterwards over chocolate milk and ice cream. Win, lose, or draw, I was always the winner at the end of the night because of that man. He's been to every milestone, every big moment in my life, and today would be yet another one to add to our collection.

After LA took everything from me, he continued to encourage me, gently nudge me to try new things and venture out back into the world. Even when I was most terrified to leave my room some days, his soft promising words and silent support motivated me to push through the pain of my weary heart. He would take me to the community pool in the evenings when it wasn't as busy and we'd swim laps for hours. The quiet lapping of the water, the isolation of being underwater and the physical exertion of lap after lap was what I needed to clear my head and work out my nervous energy and frustrations. Running would have the same effect on me, and those two sports became my therapy, two things I could do in healthy solitude; though more often than not, Ray would join me, silently supporting me every step of the way.

"Oh Daddy, I'm so glad you were able to make it!" I gush, lingering in his embrace just a little bit longer. He smells like home, family, and safety. A wave of nostalgia momentarily renders me on the brink of tears, a glimpse of both good and bad memories amalgamating together, but I quickly shake it off.

"I'm sorry your mom couldn't make it down. They send their regards though, you know that right?"

I nod, trying to hide my disappointment. Mom and Bob had booked a cruise the week before the date of my graduation, assuring me they'd still make it in time, but had decided to stay an extra week because they had been enjoying themselves too much last minute. I tried not to take to the heart the fact that she'd rather be laying on some beach than to watch me walk across that stage; that stage that embodied accomplishment, perseverance, and the simple fact that I didn't let Marley and the rest of those kids take everything from me. It was a big deal to me and they knew it. _She_ knew it, and for all the strides we were trying to make in repairing our fragile relationship, I still felt like the only one willing to put in any type of effort. Biting down the rising bile as the anger inside of me began to surface, the gentle squeeze of Ray's large hand on my smaller one brought be back down to the present.

"Don't matter; I'm the only one that matters." He winks, and I let out a pitiful laugh. I know he's only trying to lighten the mood, but we both know just how true that sentiment runs deeply for me.

I look up at Ray who eyes me delicately. I don't want my mom's glaring absence to ruin my day, but I can't help the overwhelming disappointment from sneaking into me. He's seen me at all my emotional highs and lows, and right now, he knows my mood is taking a hit for the worse. I know how much it frustrates him when my mom does things like this, but there's nothing that we can do. Instead, I give him a weak smile and he looks back at me, his warm eyes shining brightly in all his pride and happiness for this day. He silently pleads with me, and I nod my head.

"I don't want to see any tears, baby girl." He soothes, kissing my forehead gently. "Today's supposed to be a happy day, and I want you to know just how proud I am; and what an honor it is that you let me be your dad. Raising you has been the greatest joy in my life, and I don't want anything tainting this day for either of us, you hear?"

I push away the errant thoughts, eager to soak in this moment of having him next to me. Not only was I in his wonderful presence, but having Kate and Christian also here with me sets me at ease. The people I care most about are here today for me, with me, and I don't want to blemish this moment.

"I wish they could've come. But I'm glad you're here." I say into his shirt, before pulling away and straightening his suit jacket. I look into his deep brown eyes, and I know he sees my frustration and disappointment. One single, traitorous tear slips down my cheek and he effectively stops its downward fall by swiping it away before it gets too far. He kisses my forehead tenderly once more, giving me time to just breathe. His strong silence is exactly what I need when I begin feeling this way, and he waits patiently for me to settle myself.

_Enough._

I let out a slow, shaky breath before forcing a smile on my lips."There's someone I want you to meet after." I blurt, eager to move away from the landmines sure to send me spiralling. He raises his eyebrows skeptically at me, eyes wide and dramatic, causing me to giggle pulling me from my funk. He widens his eyes a touch more, pulling a true smile from my lips. "I'm serious. His name is Christian. You'll really like him."

"A boy? Who is this boy that's gotten my baby girl all giggly?" He teasingly admonishes. "This boy better be worthy, my baby girl is not to be messed with." He warns.

"I did threaten to kill him if he tried anything…also told him you were ex-army." I laugh at the memory. It seems so long ago now since that first night. "I think he got the message."

"Good girl." He grins, wrapping his arm around me.

"So I want you to be on your best behavior when you meet him afterwards, okay? I mean it, no Ray Steele Army Man; Ray Steele Daddy, okay? No threats, no beating him up, no interrogations. I really like him."

He shakes his head in dismay. "I feel like I missed out on doing any of that kind of stuff when you were growing up; though I'm thankful you weren't running around with little fuckers at the time." I playfully swat his arm. "But I feel like it's a rite of passage, ya know? Embarrass the poor soul who thinks he can win your heart?"

"No Dad, I mean it." I warn. We stare at each other though neither of us is able to keep a straight face for long. He pouts adorably, and it's so at odds seeing him like this when he towers over almost everyone around us. I pout back, challenging him to cave first.

"Fine!" He concedes, shaking his head with mirth. I always win. "I'll try to behave like a respectable citizen. I can't promise anything, but I'll give it a go. No caveman, _this_ time."

I nod my head, hugging him once more. I love this man. "Thank you."

"Now you better get inside so I can see my baby girl graduate. I'll see you after. I love you, Annie."

"I love you too, Daddy."

* * *

I'm jittery as soon as I step into the vast auditorium, large clusters of people mulling about and chatting. My anxiety rises as I look around at all the empty chairs that will soon be filled; the idea of having to go up on stage once my name is called in front of all these people near enough to make me bolt for the doors. _No one is going to jump out at you and push you. No one is going to trip you across that stage. Just calm down. _Willing myself to remain calm, I try to push aside the alarming sense of fear stealing each breath, shakily trying to make my way through the throngs of people. I replay Ray's last minute pep talk before I came inside, needing his words now more than ever.

_You're my strong, baby girl._

_I'm so proud of you._

_There's nothing you need to be afraid of. _

_I'll be right here if you need me. _

_Remember to just breathe._

After I get my cap and gown, I find my seat. I can't help but smile knowing Christian will be up there with me. Plus, I get to stare at him for the next couple hours in peace, greedily on display for me. This bit of information settles my nerves a fraction, enough so that I'm not bouncing up and down tensely in my seat.

Butterflies sweep through my stomach as I see him take the stage after Kate once everyone is introduced. The lights dim, the stage set, a quiet hush falling over the audience. The president of the university begins her speech, but I'm not paying attention.

_"He is so fucking hot. I can't wait to shake his hand." _

_"Who is he?"_

_"You don't know? One of the richest men in Seattle."_

_"Seriously? I'd like to do more than just shake his hand. Is he single? Hopefully he hangs around afterwards."_

"_Not sure. There's no way someone who looks like that is single. I bet he dates a lot, probably has a few different girls. I'd do anything to be one of those girls."_

_"I bet he fucks as good as he looks. You just _know_ he's good at it."_

Irrational anger bubbles in my chest as I listen to the two girls next to me. They're pawing over Christian, quickly pissing me off. I send a nasty scowl their way hoping that they just think it's because I can't hear. I don't care; as long as they stop talking about him.

This sudden jealousy is unsettling, but I realize it's something I'm going to have to get used to. Christian is a powerful, handsome, wealthy young man and people are going to throw themselves at him shamelessly. I hadn't put much thought into that until now, now that we're out in public no longer ensconced in his apartment. It bothers me knowing how exposed he is, and by extension, me. It's only a matter of time before people notice me…_and then what?_ An icy shudder runs cold in my veins, forcing me to take a few gulps of air to resolve the arctic blood stalling inside of me. I feel dizzy and lightheaded, but I try to rein it in before I go into full-panic mode. Clenching my fists – _open, close, open, close _– and rubbing the spot on my left wrist that often helps settle me, I pray on my therapy gods to help me keep it together.

As the ceremony continues on and on, I find myself entranced at my private viewing show of staring at Christian, hoping to focus all my attention on him. _His lips. His soft grey eyes. His thumb rubbing over my cheek. His stubble tickling my neck. _

_Mine. Not theirs. Breathe. _

The familiar sting of despair bubbles in my throat, but I valiantly try in vain to squelch the anxiety consuming me as each tedious minute passes by. _Breathe. Breathe. You're okay. _I find him a few times scanning the auditorium for me, but we have yet to make eye contact. It's frustrating as I seek out that solace of relief that only he can bring me, and I try to resist the urge to climb into his lap and tell him to take me back to his apartment and just hold me.

The last chairperson finishes their speech and now all eyes are on Christian. My breath hitches as he walks confidently towards the podium: tall, strong, and devastatingly handsome.

His mere presence demands your attention – from his tailor-made suit, the smoky grey of his eyes, and the artful toss of his perfectly unruly hair to the set of his strong jaw. I bite my lip to suppress a groan, and like a honing device, his eyes finally catch mine. Finally able to look into his eyes, if even from a distance, I find a hidden strength to push down my spiraling thoughts.

He tosses me a sardonic smile when our eyes meet discretely running his fingers down his tie, smoothing it out.

_Fuck, that tie._

I smile sweetly back at him, though my thighs are clenched tightly together. And just like that, like a drug that has wiped my memory clean if only for a little while, I focus back on the present and on this beautiful man before me. _My beautiful man_.

Completely mesmerized, he begins his speech; I watch his lips and listen intently to his silky smooth voice. My mind drifts a few times as I reminisce about that same voice commanding me while making love last night, painstakingly reminding myself now is not the time for vivid daydreams. Sighing, I return my focus to him, his words powerful and motivating.

"_…having grown up knowing hunger myself, it has become a personal mission of mine to ensure children around the world never know what hunger feels like. To ensure that they have adequate, clean, healthy food in their stomachs is a cause I am passionate about and one that I will continue to strive to improve. No amount too large to give, no child not worthy enough of a proper meal, I will personally bring these children food if that's what it takes to guarantee they get something to eat. To know that they are not alone and that there are people out there that want to help." _I feel a heaviness in my heart when I think about a poor, hungry little Christian. Was that when he also got the scars on his chest? Surely the Greys never would have let him go hungry. There's so much about his time before he got adopted that I want to know, but I know I'm pushing too much too soon. I trust he'll tell me when he's ready, and I want us to continue that way. Plus, I have my own secrets to share, and I just can't begin to imagine the heaviness those conversations are going to have on our new relationship.

The rest of his speech is just as eloquent and well-put as he talks about the future and inspires us to continue to step forward in all things to make a change for the better. I can't stop the awe-struck look on my face as I hang off his every word, much like everyone else around me. When his speech concludes, he gives me a panty-dropping smile and I feel my heart pitter-patter before my cheeks turn a rosy shade of pink. He knows he's got me as he widens his smile a touch more, before waving politely to the crowd as they applause. The girls next to me are swooning, delusion in their thoughts that he was looking at _them._

Now that he knows where I'm seated, he keeps a steady gaze on me throughout Kate's speech. Having memorized her speech by heart, I mouth the words along, simultaneously trying to keep my clothes on as Christian watches me, willing me to do just the opposite.

Kate is sweet and funny; charming and thought-provoking in all the right spots. At the end, the entire auditorium erupts in applause and elation at her inspirational words. I stand tall and proud clapping wildly for her, honored that she is my best friend. She is the definition of class and poise as she receives her accolades before taking a seat. I watch happily as Kate and Christian share a meaningful look, the same one they shared before Kate's speech, before the final part of the ceremony proceeds and the degrees are handed out one-by-one. I'm jittery all over again, eager to be in Christian's presence if only for a second. Having to look at him yet keep my distance has been punishing; I admonish myself at how pathetic I've become.

Once I hear my name called, I get up as steady as possible and I shake hands along the procession line until I get to Christian. He's grinning widely at me, leaning in to whisper 'congratulations' as he holds my hand just a little bit longer than the others, breaking his poised, erect stature if only for a moment. His cheek brushes against mine, and I bite my lip taking in his intoxicating scent, whispering a 'thank you' back before heading off stage. I look back just in time to see his sideways glance towards me, shaking my head with glee.

The rest of the ceremony, the closing words, and the final goodbye pass in a blur as the audience are eager for this to be over. It's been hours, and I'm starting to get antsy, itching out of my skin to be with Christian. I nearly leap out of my chair once it's over, quickly making my way through the crowds to find Ray.

Ray is already at our meeting spot with Kate's family – her parents and Ethan. I'm excited to see Ethan, and hug him happily before greeting Kate's parents as a round of congratulations is shared. In the past four years they've become my extended family, Kate inviting me along for all the major holidays and weekends when I couldn't be with Ray. They know all my favorite foods and favorite traditions, and always made sure I felt at home when I visited them. I'm so blessed to have them in my life, and to be able to share this milestone moment with them as well.

Before I even get a word out, a feel a hand on the small of my back and immediately know it's _him_. I'm excited by his touch, and hastily turn around to greet him. Just as happy to see me, he leans in just close enough to place a sweet kiss on my lips. I gush inside, reaching for his hand as I turn around to face Ray. I try to control myself, promising to get in a few more kisses once we're alone in private.

"Daddy, I'd like you to meet Christian." I announce with an eager flourish. I've never introduced Ray to anyone before, nervous and excited all at once. His approval means everything to me.

"Christian? Christian Grey?" My dad says with a hint of astonishment. No doubt he's just sat through listening in adoration to Christian speak, only now finding out he's one and the same man I wanted to introduce him to. I beam proudly as I watch the two men in front of me. Both strong, honorable men; both here for me.

Christian nods politely, extending his hand for a firm shake. "Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Steele."

My dad looks at me with a smirk. Politeness and manners go a long way with this man. No doubt Ray was expecting me to introduce him to some college frat boy, not the refined and classy Mr. Grey that stands before him. "When my daughter said she wanted to introduce me to someone_,_ you were not what I was expecting."

"Dad…" I warn.

"Honey, relax." He pacifies me with a hand on my shoulder, and Christian smiles politely. "It's a pleasure to meet you as well. That was quite the speech you gave. It's good to hear that there are still some people trying to do good in this world. And so young at that."

Christian nods his head, uncomfortable with the praise. I reach for his hand again and give him a comforting squeeze, his shy smile mirrored back at me. My dad nods his head not so discretely in approval at me, both men letting out a chuckle at my reddening cheeks.

Immediately I'm engulfed by Kate's overbearing embrace, a face-full of blonde hair greeting me as we hug, barely keeping our feet on the ground once she steps out the door and comes barreling down the steps. We're laughing with giddy excitement, relief washing over us. "You were incredible Kate!" I grin proudly. "Your speech was amazing, you were amazing… I'm so proud of you!"

"Really? I was so nervous! I kept looking for you, but I could barely see anything because of the lights. I'm glad I did though, Christian pointed you out to me after his speech and I felt so much better seeing you."

I look at Christian who diffidently shrugs his shoulders. _How sweet of him!_

"Your speech was great as well." She acknowledges to Christian, and they share a courteous nod towards each other. Baby steps.

Enthusiastically we chat over drinks in the lobby before realizing how late it's gotten. Kate and I are inseparable, Christian close by flanked on my other side. At the suggestion of dinner, Kate and I both realize we overlooked that minor detail.

"Oh, I guess we really didn't plan a place to go to." Kate frowns.

"There's an excellent restaurant nearby, Canlis, have you been?" Christian asks, reaching into his jacket.

"Won't we need a reservation? I don't know, maybe we should try another place?" If it's a restaurant Christian's familiar with, I have no doubt it's going to be something extravagant and I don't see us getting a table so last-minute.

Instead, he just smiles and kisses my cheek. "I'll call ahead, will it just be us, or will anyone else be joining?" He asks taking out his phone.

"Oh! Jose said he'd like to meet up with us. Would it be okay if one more joined?"

"Of course, baby." He says cupping my head and placing a kiss on top before stepping away from us as he places the call. Kate and I both gawp at him as he returns not even a minute later with a private room reserved.

Kate's parents are thrilled, my dad looking impressed. Christian seems completely unfazed as we work out directions and cars. Everyone agrees to meet us there and I'm thankful for a few moments alone with Christian as we head to the waiting car.

"I'm so proud of you. Congratulations. How does it feel to be a college graduate?" He teases lightly once we're inside.

"I guess you wouldn't know, Mr. Harvard drop-out." I tease back. "But I guess you've done okay for yourself. I mean if making a few billion here and there is your type of thing." I shrug.

He chuckles before leaning in to kiss me, our first real kiss since this morning.

"You're wearing this tie to tease me." I pout, pulling on his tie so I can run my fingers along it.

"Is it working?"

"Yes."

His lips are on me once more, a happy sigh tumbling from my occupied lips. The ride to the restaurant is short, and I give him one last deep kiss to tide me over. He's all I need to redeem my shattered and frail nerves shot to hell from the tensions of graduation and the disheartening appearance of my hidden past earlier today. His grey eyes are warm and welcoming, and we both take one last moment to just breathe together.

Once inside, I'm taken by how beautiful of a place this restaurant is. Kate tells us how this restaurant has a waiting list months in advance, the finest place to eat in all of Seattle. Yet Christian has managed to get us a large private dining room in less than 60 seconds. _Of course. _The staff is attentive and the servers immediately greet us and take our drink orders once we've all taken a seat. Everyone sits around the table in good spirits and I steal a shy smile at Christian. He drapes his arm around the back of my chair, his fingers tracing a lazy pattern up and down my arm, chatting easily with Ray. They discuss fishing, sports, and Christian talks a bit about business after my dad's sudden interest in the business world. I know he's just doing it to appease me, but I appreciate the effort all the same.

I sneak out of my chair when I see Jose and give him a hug before leading him to the table. I introduce him to Christian, before him and Ray go back to their conversation. It warms my heart to see them getting along so well; I was nervous knowing that they both tend to be the strong and silent types, not much for idle chit-chat.

"Jose, I'm so glad you could make it!"

"This is quite the restaurant, Steele." He whistles, nodding my head in agreement. "Congratulations by the way."

"Thank you. And thanks for coming. Christian was able to get us a table here last minute. I don't know how, but he did. Isn't it wonderful?"

Jose looks down awkwardly as he toes the carpet with his shoe. "Of course he could. So Christian…what's the deal there?"

"Oh Jose! He's a great guy, you'll really like him." I gush, eager for them to get to know each other.

"Are you dating him?" He practically sneers his words, my head shooting up in surprise.

_Are we?_ It's only been a few days, so I haven't really given much thought to what we are. "We've been seeing each other." I answer lamely. "It's still new, but I really like him." I finish, looking over at Christian who seems to be eyeing me conspicuously. _Huh._

"You must. Looks like he's already gotten 'ol Ray's approval." I can't help but note the obstinate tension all of a sudden. He glares towards Christian, bothering me. He doesn't even know Christian but already he's dismissing him.

"Is everything okay?"

He shrugs it off, before walking towards the table. _What just happened?_ I watch him take a seat next to Ethan, and suddenly I'm forgotten. The fact that he's one of my best friends and so easily can walk away from me like that leaves me bereft. A flash of panic creeps into my psyche as I flip through my memory for anything I might have said or done since the last time I saw Jose to have upset him, coming up with nothing. I can't think of a reason for his sudden brush off, but I try to silence the rising alarm that irrationally tells me I'm going to lose him. We've been friends for four years; surely our friendship is stronger than that.

Christian takes this as his opportunity to swoop in, walking over to me with my drink in hand. "Having a good time?" He asks as we sit on the bench near the windows. It really is a wonderful view. I can tell he's itching to be closer to me, but for the sake of my dad, he keeps a respectable distance.

"I am." I smile, though I'm still upset about Jose's cold shoulder. "Thank you, again, for all of this. It was really sweet of you, you didn't have to you know."

"I wanted to. It's a big day for you." The fact that this man, who barely knows me has put such an effort into ensuring I have a wonderful day is a stark reminder of my mom's absence. I'm her flesh and blood, yet where is she now?

I reach over for his hand and lace his fingers with my own. Resting my head on his shoulder, he places his arm around my waist and I take a moment to just breathe. It has been an intense day and I'm grateful for this respite.

"I can't wait to take you home." He whispers shamelessly, causing a loud laugh to burst through as I lightly push him away.

"You're terrible!" I admonish, my mood lifting instantly.

He pins me with a questioning look, wanting to ask me something but then thinking better of it. "Is everything okay? Are you doing okay?" It takes me a second to understand; there's no way he could know how reminiscing over my past has left me frail and teetering on the edge, or Jose's sudden coldness towards me. But already he understands that I'm flitting from here and there, aware that something is just not right. The worry in his eyes tugs on my heart.

I smile to reassure the both of us. "I'm better now, thank you." I murmur before stealing a quick kiss. "It's just been a long day. I can't wait to go home with you." I reply truthfully.

I'm rewarded by his dazzling smile and a soft kiss on the lips before we're pulled back to the table, dinner now served. Our tiny little bubble, the one I often find myself locked and sealed away in when it's the just the two of us disappears and the familiar chatter of my friends and family bring me back, warming me to have everyone I care about in one place. For once, I don't mind all of this attention as I take a quick mental photo of all their kind and familiar faces.

Taking my seat next to Christian, I realize just how right this feels. Him by my side, surrounded by friends and family. I try not to read too much into welcoming him into my inner circle, but my heart swoons with delight just knowing that he's here with me. I glance shyly at him, only to find him already looking. I bite my lip for a moment before releasing it, the warning smirk on his face reminding me of what that does to him. Instead, I lean over to kiss his cheek, and am wonderfully rewarded by his boyish smile as everyone at the table looks on.

_Be still my heart._

* * *

**A/N:** Thank you for all the reviews/favorites/follows! I appreciate each and every review, and all of you who have taken the time to read :)


	16. Old Acquaintances

**CHAPTER 16 - OLD ACQUAINTANCES**

_It's a shame you don't know_  
_what you're running from._  
_Would your bones have to break_  
_and your lights turn off?_  
_Would it take the end of time_  
_to hear your heart's false start?_

_-Your Biggest Mistake (Ellie Goulding)-_

* * *

**(CPOV)**

I don't ever do these sorts of things – gatherings or social events unless I'm with family or it's for business. But tonight I had wanted to do this for her, for Ana, because she deserves this celebration. She's such a bright young woman, and I wanted to celebrate that. I wanted to celebrate her.

I'm surprised at how pleasant tonight has been. I'd never admit it, but I was nervous meeting Raymond Steele. Ana has said how much she adores him and I knew if I didn't get his approval she would be crushed. Thankfully we had a few things in common thanks to Ana's coaching, and I found we got along smoothly. He really is a stand-up guy much like Carrick, taking on a child that wasn't his yet loving them as if they were his own.

What I don't understand is her relationship with her mother, or lack thereof. I know she has one, yet I've never heard so much as an utterance about her. Ana can talk for hours about Ray, but she's never once brought her up. All I know is that her parents separated when she was still pretty young and ended up living with Ray as a teenager. I hadn't even realized Ray wasn't her biological dad until she had said so, but by the way she talks about him you'd have never known. It makes me wonder about her relationship with her mother and her blatant absence today. Aren't parents supposed to be at these things?

I could tell Ana was nervous about getting a reservation here. Sweet girl, she doesn't need to know I either own or know the owners of most of the top businesses in Seattle – whether it's retail, commercial, hotels, or restaurants. Getting a reservation at one of the most sought out venues was a breeze; all I need to do is say the name _Grey_ and people are throwing themselves at my feet for my business. It's laughable just how easily I can snap my fingers and have people literally bow down to me. _Everyone but Ana, _I smirk at the thought.

Earlier I noticed her _friend's_ flagrant disregard for me. _Fucker._ I don't know what his deal is but I can only assume it has to do with Ana. That girl has these boys on their knees for her and she doesn't even see it. Him, the Kavanaugh boy, they're all completely besotted by her, waiting for her to say jump. I can't help but laugh at the irony; I'm just another one of those fuckers. _Join the club._

As dinner comes to an end I can see just how exhausted my girl is. I had kept her up all weekend and after her big day today I lament knowing tonight will probably be just sleep. She remains cheerful and friendly but her tiny little yawns tell me she's itching to get to bed. A few times she's put her head on my shoulder and I couldn't resist placing kisses in her hair. She laces her fingers with mine and it's such an innocent gesture but I can feel Kate's and even Jose's eyes catch us every time. _Mind your own damn business. _I ignore their glances, self-conscious but determined not to let it show. If I want to hold her fucking hand, I will.

_This girl is magic, and I don't ever want to let her go._

My mood takes a hit when I overhear Ana insisting her dad stay the night. "Daddy, it's too late to drive back. You can just come back to my place; Kate's going to her parents tonight so I'll have the extra space. Please." I watch the two of them together, this beast of a man and the tiny Anastasia, and I can't help but snicker at another member of the _Ana Club. _There's just something about her that has all the men around her eager to please her.

"Okay Annie, I'll be out of your hair first thing in the morning." She jumps childishly, hanging onto his arm as he looks back at her fondly. "You sure you don't mind?" She shakes her head adamantly.

"Absolutely not! Just let me say goodbye to Christian and we can go."

I try to act like I haven't been listening. "Hey…" she starts, blinking her lashes at me. _Oh, she's good._ "My dad's going to stay over at my place tonight…so…I don't think I can stay over. Rain check on tonight?" She pouts prettily at me and I give in within seconds. I may be all kinds of things, but I would never keep her from Ray.

"Of course. How about breakfast tomorrow before Ray leaves?"

Her eyes light up like a Christmas tree. "That would be wonderful! Thank you, thank you!" She bounces, planting a sweet kiss on my lips. I hold her in place to keep her lips on mine for just a bit longer before letting her go. Her cheeks turn rosy when she pulls away.

"There's a good breakfast place near your apartment. I'll text you the address." I look over her shoulder and see Ray shuffling his feet readying to go. "Until then." I murmur, leaning down for one last goodnight kiss. She stands on her tip-toes, her hands on my forearms as she steadies herself.

"Until then." She whispers before kissing me back.

I make sure the two of them get safely to Ray's car before heading home myself. The drive is quiet without Ana's chatty mouth or distracting ways and I can't help but grin. She definitely keeps things interesting, and I feel a twinge of jealousy that she won't be going home with me tonight.

* * *

Sitting in my study, I decide to get some much needed work done. Ana's been a welcomed distraction, but I really must catch up thanks to the funk I was in this past week after our fight.

Scrolling through my emails I see one from Elena. _Shit. _I had forgotten about the interviews. At the time I had needed to get my mind off of Ana who I thought would have been a one-off at most. Now that that's not the case, I quickly type back an email telling Elena to cancel them.

My phone rings almost immediately once I've sent the email and I groan knowing it's her. _"Christian dear, is something the matter? I've set up three interviews with girls with great potential for you."_

"I should have called earlier, but I won't be needing those interviews anymore Elena." I say curtly. Just talking to her suddenly feels wrong as I imagine how upset Ana would be if she knew who Elena was.

_"Oh, have you found someone on your own?"_

"No. I'm just not interested in a sub anymore. I won't need one."

_"But Christian, it's been quite a while since your last one – Leila, wasn't it? A shame things ended the way they did. How have you been taking care of yourself since her? You must be at your wits end I'd imagine."_

"I'm fine Elena. Cancel the interviews."

There's a pregnant pause before she speaks up again. _"I saw the most interesting picture of you online today."_ She titters. She sounds innocent enough, however, knowing her as well as I do I recognize the wickedness poorly hidden in her voice.

"Oh?"

_"Yes, there's a picture of you standing next to a pretty young thing from a graduation ceremony this afternoon. I would never have pictured her for your type other than the hair. She's quite plain don't you think?"_

I'm irritated with her tone and words. She knows she's riling me up, and it's working.

"Leave her alone, Elena." I warn.

_"I would say the same to you. There's no possible way she's part of the scene. A girl like that would get eaten alive by someone like you. She's a child, Christian. Graduation? Really?"_

"We're done here Elena. Drop all of it. Cancel the interviews."

_"I don't even know her name, Christian. Why don't you tell me?"_

"Enough." I hiss, my fist slamming hard onto my desk.

_"Why so coy, dear? I'm sure come morning her name will be splashed all over the pages."_

Shit. She's right.

"Her name is Anastasia." I concede, hoping this will keep her from prodding any further. But I know Elena and I distrust her intentions. She's always had a skewed way of protecting me; and up until recently I've accepted that because we looked out for each other and have done so for so long. But I don't trust her around anything having to do with Ana. She'll destroy her, of that I'm certain.

_"Hmm, never would have thought such a plain looking girl would have such a pretty name."_

"Enough!" I bark as she titters once more on the other end.

_"My, my. You sound awfully tense. Just say the word and I can have one of my girls at your door in no time-"_

Blood pounds rudely in my head. I pinch the bridge of my nose trying to ward off the impending headache, but to no avail. "Back off, Elena. I'm not playing games here. Stay away. I know your games, I know your shit, so don't even think about it. You'll be sorry if I find out you've interfered in any way when it comes to Anastasia."

I hear her tsk-ing on the other end, drawing out this conversation longer than it needs to be. I'm just about to hang up when she drops a grenade to truly set me off. "_This girl is a waste of your time. You'll realize it sooner or later. She's nothing – there's nothing remarkable about her."_

"_Fuck. You_." I roar before slamming my phone down. _That fucking bitch. _I'm fuming as her words echo in my head, her shrill tongue ringing over and over. That woman, regrettably now, is the one person who truly knows all of me and whom I've always been able to trust. With that comes the hazard of knowing just how to accurately fuck with my head and she knows she's doing that now.

This undeniable protectiveness I feel for Ana is completely arcane to me. Truth be told when I first saw her I thought just that – _there's nothing remarkable about her._ But in the span of days, hell even those few hours after we met, she had completely throttled my entire universe. She makes me speak my fears; she shares hers. She wants me, not because of who I am, what I do, or what I have; but _me_. She questions me, challenges me, defies me. She's hardly intimidating at just over 5"7 and a hundred some pounds, yet she wields a kind of power over me that has me completely captivated. I'm helpless against her.

There's nothing that _isn't_ remarkable about her.

I realize just how quickly my feelings for her are growing and it terrifies me. My control is slipping, and this feeling of grasping at nothingness makes my entire body stand on edge. If I lose control someone is going to get hurt, and I just know it'll be Ana.

I know we agreed to try a normal _vanilla _relationship and I was okay with that. I truly wanted to try because if it meant the chance of being with her, so help me I'd give it my all. But it's these quiet moments when I'm alone in my head when I wonder just how long normal will last before I'm craving something more. Something harder, something darker. _Something more me._

I pull up the pictures of Ana and myself from this afternoon's graduation. They're all innocent pictures truly, us side by side, neither touching or looking at each other. But of course the media is going to make it much bigger than it needs to be, the simple fact that I was seen next to a woman out in public. I check the link to see which site published them, but the pictures look amateur at best. I smirk at the thought that some media heads are going to be fuming they missed such an opportune moment to capture us, as there are none of us in any sort of kiss or embrace. There were plenty of opportunities to get that money shot, however it seems the media hounds had gotten lazy and assumed I wouldn't be caught dead hanging around afterwards. They got their shots of me on stage and left, leaving some poor soul to snap pictures on their phone and send them in for their 15 minutes of fame. Their loss, not mine.

I stare at her effortless beauty in one of the pictures – the wave of her dark chocolate brown hair, the fit of her dress, the ease of her smile. She stuns in her own graceful way and it makes my stomach twist to think that I could be the one to take that all away from her. How long will it be before we break, no longer able to keep up this charade?

Rubbing my hand over my forehead, I sigh. For as much as I want us to work_, to really try and make this work_, I just know deep in my gut that I'll fuck this up. I'll hurt her, and I'll never be able to forgive myself, leaving me two options: cut our losses now, or fix me before I could possibly hurt her.

The quiet, shy voice in my head, new and unfamiliar to me, tells me to choose the latter. That voice tells me to try, that despite the risk I'm taking in putting myself on the line for her, the reward I'll get – _her_ – will make it all worth it. The more obnoxious voice, the voice I'm used to, reminds me I'm a delusional fuck and we all know which option I'd really choose. _Don't pretend like there's a hope for you, fucker. Tell her goodbye already._

Grumbling to myself, I click 'save' on the picture before slamming the top of my laptop closed.

* * *

**(APOV)**

I'm excited for once waking up early knowing I'll get to see Ray one last time before he drives back home. I don't see him nearly enough as I should seeing he only lives a few hours away, but time and money had not been in my favor during college. Now that I'm done and closer to Montesano, I've vowed to see him more regularly.

I'm even more excited since Christian offered to come along this morning. I appreciate the effort he's making; I know it can't be easy for him. He's a busy man running a billion-dollar corporation, yet he's making an effort for me.

I shower and quickly change into a pair of skinny jeans and an over-sized grey long-sleeved top with an orange infinity scarf and grey slouchy knit beanie. Mornings are always a little chilly in Seattle, and today looks exceptionally gloomy. I head out to the kitchen and see Ray already up and dressed. I've realized Christian has only ever seen me in carefully picked out outfits the last few times we've met – with the exception of the first night. I don't think he's ever seen me this casual before, and I'm curious to see his reaction; not that I think he'd think much of it but this is more _me_, and a tiny part of me feels nervous. For obvious reasons Christian doesn't seem the type to be seen with a jeans and t-shirt kind of girl.

That's when I realize I haven't heard from Christian since last night. The least I figured would've been a text with the address for where we're meeting or a goodnight message.

Digging for my phone in my purse in the other room, I decide to call him, eager to hear his voice.

"Christian?" I ask when I hear him pick up the phone but he doesn't reply. I look down at my phone to make sure I've dialed the right number. "Christian?" I ask again.

"_Hello, Ana_." He says tersely.

I decide to go for light, unsure of how to respond to that. "Hey, how are you? I was just calling about breakfast this morning. I never got the address; you said it was nearby though?"

"_I won't be able to make breakfast this morning. I apologize, I must have forgotten to let you know_." He sounds so rote and formal like he's practiced saying this.

I frown, a mixture of hurt and annoyance. For someone who's always responsible and in control, it seems unlike him to have forgotten to tell me. There's a sinking feeling in my stomach and it feels a lot like rejection. A brush off. His way of telling me to get lost. _No, no, no._

"Oh, okay then. Is everything okay? Did something come up?"

_"Yeah, fine. Something like that."_

That's all he's going to tell me? I glare out the window as if it's him I'm glaring at. "Ohh-kay then." I huff childishly.

_"I gotta go."_

"Right. You got_ something like that_ or other to tend to_._" I mock. "Whatever." I mumble. "Goodbye Christian."

He doesn't even bother to say goodbye before I hear the offending click on the other line. _What the hell just happened?_

I head back into the kitchen to see Ray right where I left him. "Good morning baby girl." He smiles.

"Did you sleep okay?"

"Yes, thank you Annie. Ready for some breakfast?"

I nod my head as I see a text message from Christian. The address for the breakfast place.

"Yeah, but it'll just be you and me this morning. Hope you don't mind being stuck with me." I grin cheekily, hoping to dispel the rising unease I feel. Have I messed this up already? Is this about me not spending the night last night?

"Best news I've heard all day." He grins back. "You are, after all, my favorite child."

"I better be your _only_ child Raymond Steele." I say in my best motherly voice.

Hands up in defence, he relents. "One and only. Come on, I'm starving. It's practically lunch time."

"Dad, its only 10:00am!"

"I've been up since 5:00am. Bright and early, just how all days should start."

"Is the sun even up that early?" I groan at the thought.

He just shakes his head, his efforts to get me to wake up early when I was a kid vastly lost in the myriad of early morning fights. Whereas Ray's military training had him wake at ungodly hours where the stars still shone and the sky was nearly as black as it was when it first stole the sun's place in the sky, I was the type to wake up well into the day where the sun had already found its rightful place. Since then, I've made a point of scheduling work and school around mid-morning at the earliest. It's that thought that makes me realize another thing Ray and Christian have in common – both early risers. I sigh as I grab my coat and we head for the door, internally trying to push away the sadness I feel from not knowing what's happening between Christian and I. What could have possibly changed in the last few hours?

* * *

Breakfast was bittersweet. I loved having Ray to myself, but I knew he was itching to get back home. He's always been a homebody – after the army he just wanted to be home. Then he spent most of my childhood staying home with me and it's become his life.

We caught each other up on what has happened since we last saw each other. Though we talk on the phone every week, nothing compares to being next to him. He's been hanging out a lot with Jose Rodriguez Sr., Jose's dad, and I can't help but smile knowing he's found such a great friend in him. They saw each other briefly shortly after I met Jose; but had actually met long before that during their army days. Only recently have they started hanging out more regularly. He tells me how they go into town and shoot the breeze or fishing trips whenever they can. I tell him how my finals went, how the move to Seattle has been with Kate, and briefly skim over Christian. I didn't want Ray to get the wrong impression of Christian after his sudden cancellation, but I really didn't know what was going on with him. I figured it would be best to keep him on Ray's good side for the time being; I would hate to see what Ray would do should Christian cross him, or worse, me.

As we say goodbye with his car parked outside of my apartment, I reprimand myself for being such a baby. He comes out and opens my door before wrapping me in one of his signature bear hugs, sweeping me off my feet. He holds me tightly with just enough room to breathe and I sob into his chest. I hate saying goodbye to him.

"Annie, you know it worries me leaving you like this."

"I know, I just hate it when you go." I mumble clinging onto his chest. I'm overly emotional and it startles him, but I try to reassure him that I'm really okay and that he doesn't need to worry about me.

"Me too baby girl, me too. But we'll see each other real soon." He holds me for a little bit longer before planting me firmly back on my feet. "Now, you listen to me," He waits a beat to make sure that I am. I nod my head. "I did not raise a crying, sniffling, little girl." He says in a stern voice and straight face, though his eyes are kind and teasing. "You promise to come visit me more often?" I nod once more. "Okay then, enough of this silliness. I'll see you in a few weeks after you've gotten settled. And for crying out loud, unpack! You've been there nearly a month now. Next time I visit I expect to see furniture built, understood?"

"Yes, Daddy." I mock salute.

"Anything else you want me say before I go?"

I shake my head.

"Okay then. Don't let that boy hurt you, ya hear me? I like him, he seems nice enough. Whether he's good enough for you, the jury's still out on that one."

"You mean a billionaire who owns his own company is not worthy material? Beats an unemployed college grad." I joke.

"No one will be good enough." He says gently before placing a kiss in my hair. "Be careful out here. I worry knowing you're all by yourself. You can always come home if you need to."

"Thank you, Daddy. I think I'll give Seattle a little more time before deciding. And thank you for coming out, it means everything to me."

"I wouldn't have missed it for the world." With one last hug, he walks around to the driver's side before getting in. "Looks like there's a line-up. You have another man waiting for you."

"What?"

He simply nods his head a few cars ahead of where he's parked, and I see Christian's SUV and Christian leaning against it.

"I'll see you in a few weeks." He calls before pulling away, and I stand there in the middle of the sidewalk warily looking back at Christian.

Part of me is thrilled that he's here. The other part just doesn't understand what happened this morning. The worst part of me, the part that's still a little sore from his brush off this morning, wants me to give him a taste of his own medicine. That part wins out.

"Long breakfast?" He states, kicking off with his foot before strolling towards me.

"My dad's the most important person to me. He deserves my time." I say reservedly. He looks anxious, unsure of himself. Is it because of me, or because of him?

"I want to apologize for this morning." He starts again, stopping a few feet away from me. "I realize how that must have seemed, and how it might've upset you."

"I'm not upset." I say insolently, crossing my arms over my chest.

"You're not?"

I shake my head and glare at him.

"Right." He says unconvinced. "Do you have time to talk?"

"No." I reply immediately and he frowns.

"No?"

"No." I don't offer him anything more before turning towards the door. I don't have anything nice to say to him right now.

"Ana." He sighs, his voice a little louder.

"Go away." I huff in finality before entering my building. I walk quickly to get inside before he can reach me and let out a shaky whimper as I climb the stairs. _Please don't cry, please don't cry, please don't cry._

* * *

**A/N:** Thank you for all the reviews/favorites/follows! Reviews are greatly appreciated! Come find me on Facebook, Pinterest and Tumblr :)


	17. Sessions

**CHAPTER 17 – SESSIONS **

_I am insensitive, I have a tendency_  
_to pay more attention to the things that I need._  
_Sometimes I drink too much, sometimes I test your trust,_  
_sometimes I don't know why you stay with me._

_I'm hard to love, hard to love,_  
_no, I don't make it easy._  
_I couldn't do it if I stood where you stood._  
_I'm hard to love, hard to love,_  
_you say that you need me._  
_I don't deserve it but I love that you love me, girl._

_-Hard to Love (Lee Brice)-_

* * *

**(CPOV – The Morning after Graduation)**

You're a miserable dick. You're a fucked up, giant, miserable, piece-of-shit dick. What is wrong with you?

The anger I feel towards myself is near palpable as I replay what an asshole I was to Ana. It's no excuse, but I didn't know what else to do. Like the spineless fuck that I am, I panicked, and I needed to hide from her making her feel bad so I could feel better about myself. But I don't. I don't feel better. If anything I feel ten times worse. The disappointment in her voice when I cancelled on her was obvious, and I don't even remember saying goodbye. I just hung up on her, too embarrassed at what a loser I really am.

After last night's talk with Elena I couldn't stop thinking about how selfish I was being. I don't agree with a lot of what Elena said, but she was right in the sense that I would destroy Ana. Just when I think if I really try I can be good enough for her, reality settles in and I'm reminded of just how much shit I come with.

Ana may have seen pieces of me, but we've only just begun to graze the surface of my depravity. My corruption. My degeneracy. There is just too much fuckedupness in my life and I feel as though I'm just leading her on, drawing her into my sick world before it's too late for her to turn back. I have secrets upon secrets from the disgusting excuse that was my mother, to the sick shit I've done with Elena and my subs all those years. But not only is it my own past that is holding me back, it's my present too. All the shit that surrounds me – the money, the name, the notoriety. People are constantly out to get me if they're not trying to get _with_ me, and it's a shady place that is my world; never certain of who you can trust. When I'm not questioning peoples' motives, I'm looking over my shoulder to see if some lunatic is trying to attack me. In business, the billion-dollar kind that I'm involved in, you make friends and you guarantee yourself some enemies. It's those enemies I constantly worry about; despite my business ethics, if someone doesn't get their way and there's a lot at stake, there's no telling how someone might react or what they'll use to get their way.

And it's because of that, the danger, the constant threat looming over me that I'm afraid Ana will want to run the opposite way when she realizes that I'm not just some schmuck off the street. I can't just run to the grocery store or walk down the sidewalk without wondering in the back of my mind whether or not my safety is being threatened or if someone is trying to weasel their way into my life for their own ulterior motives. All it takes is for one sleazy paparazzi or wannabe journalist to get a good enough glimpse into my world before they run off to exploit the shit out of me, plotting my downfall for a pretty hefty payday. And how will Ana fit into all of this? Where will she stand amongst all the shit that follows me? I know my girl has nothing to worry about when it comes to her; she's my sweet innocent little beauty. How is she going to react when she realizes what a complicated man I really am and she's thrown into the spotlight all because of me? Will she thrive or resent me for it? I fear it'll be the latter; she's so shy I don't think she'd enjoy all the attention. And it won't be good attention either. The media, the vultures, the bottom of the barrel tabloid rags will smear campaign her, and that's the last thing I would want for her. If possible, I'd like to keep her innocence intact and protect my baby from the harsh cruelties of the world. _If she'll let me._

Instead of going to breakfast I decided an impromptu meeting with Flynn was needed. My mind was racing and I couldn't make sense of any of those thoughts in my head. I was borderline frantic as I argued with his receptionist Linda to schedule me in ASAP, finally relenting after nearly screaming her ear off that it was an emergency. If I didn't know any better, I was certain she would have dialed 911 rather than Flynn's line to tell him I was here if I had to wait a minute longer.

It's been nearly a week since I last saw Flynn; the last time being the night before I met Ana. Seeing as I'm usually here at least 2-3 times a week – yes, I'm _that_ fucked-up even after all these years of therapy – it feels strange having gone an entire week without him; regrettably now I realize what a poor judgement call that had been on my part. Sitting in the lobby now, I look around at the office I no-doubt paid the remodel of with my surplus of sessions. I'm confident I'm single-handedly keeping his practice in business, just long enough until he cashes in on his cushy retirement. Flynn could even close up his practice and take me on as his sole client and still he'd be living the good life. _Overpaid British man._

I take stock of the leather couches, the artful décor on the walls, the tinkling fountain next to Linda's desk. What the fuck does she need a fountain for? It's a nice enough office I muse, considering how much money I siphon into this place. Yet, every time I come in here, I find something else to dislike. It must be because I hate this place so fucking much.

"Christian, pleasure to see you. It's been a while, that's unusual for you. What has brought you in today?" Flynn appears out of nowhere, approaching me before walking me into his office. He takes a seat in his green wingback chair, back to the window, calm and patient as always. Though he's not much older than me, he exudes an air of maturity, wise beyond his years. Sometimes I think he's more Carrick's age than mine. I take a sip of water.

He sits poised with one ankle over his knee, a notepad perched on the arm of the chair. Waiting for me to start, he allows me to get settled. These sessions are always my topic of choosing, and I think that's why I liked him right away – the other therapists I saw always had an agenda, wanting to discuss what they wanted to fix in me. But with Flynn I have control and we both know how important that is to me.

"I've recently met someone." I mumble hurriedly. "She's…her name is Anastasia. Ana." My speech is pressured as I feel the need to quickly expulse my transgressions. I know I never should have let this many days go by without seeing Flynn, especially considering the enormity of meeting Ana has had on my life. But there's nothing I can do about it now. Now, I need the good doctor's advice to make sense of all of this and fix whatever it is that needs to be fixed.

He nods his head, eyebrows raised in surprise as he urges me to continue. I skip any preambles, eager for Flynn to fix me so I can get back to her. _Let me be fixable. _"We met at a bar, fucking Elliot dragged me to some campus shit hole and she was by herself. Well not really, she was with her roommate, but still. She was beautiful, _is beautiful,_ John. My god, I've never met anyone like her before."

"You approached her?" To the layman Flynn would appear indifferent, blasé. But I've been seeing him long enough that I too have made my own observations about him and I know he's hiding his disbelief that I would do such a thing. I don't ever approach anyone for no reason; let alone a _girl. _And here I am now, swooning over her like a pussy. _Grow the fuck up, man._

I continue to tell him about that night – approaching her, Ana foolishly walking home by herself and me following her. He's hiding his smirk as I tell him about Ana's smart mouth. I tell him everything up until our last night together, and then about Elena's conversation that led to this meeting in the first place. He does a lousy job of hiding his disdain for that woman.

I feel relieved once I've finally finished, a surprising weight lifted off my chest and shoulders after purging all that's happened. He organizes his thoughts before leaning forward, bracing me for his wisdom.

"With everything you've said, and you've said quite a bit I must say, you've had quite the week. You've gone through a gamut of emotions that are quite unfamiliar to you. You've done things you normally wouldn't do and you've made your own revelations about yourself without my help. So what is it that you would like me to do?"

I sigh in frustration. That's exactly it – I _don't_ know.

"She's…different from anyone I've ever met before. I keep a tight lid on the people I come into contact with, yet the minute I saw her, I didn't care about any of that. I wasn't thinking about contracts or NDAs, I wasn't thinking about anything but wanting to meet her. Yes, a huge reason for my wanting to meet her was because I wanted to fuck her…did I mention how beautiful she is? But even then, there was something there that drew me in. It's those fucking eyes…I don't know what it is but when she looks at me…"

"What happens when she looks at you?" Flynn asks once I've gone silent.

I fumble with my words and curse loudly. "It's like…you look at her, and you just _know_ she's a good person. You know she has a good heart, that she would never hurt anyone. She's just so innocent, naïve, and caring and I think about Mia when my parents first brought her home."

"Interesting." Flynn murmurs. "And what about Mia when she was first brought home?"

I roll my eyes. Flynn already knows my history with Mia and how she's the only one I've ever allowed to touch me. I'm sullen because it irritates me having to go over the same thing when it hits me. He's watching me, waiting for it to click. And it does.

"Mia." I start, "When I first met her…I just _knew_ she was a good person." I say in awe at the thought. "She was innocent; she could never hurt me because she was just a baby."

"And when she touched you?"

"She couldn't control it. She was just a baby so when her arm would hit my chest or she'd fall on me I couldn't get mad at her. I didn't feel like I needed to because she was just so little and harmless. Instead, I wanted to protect her because she was so little."

"And with Ana?"

I purse my lips in thought. "I feel the same. I haven't let her touch my chest with her hands, but…when she hugs me or holds me it's like she can't control it. She does it without thinking, like it's completely natural. She's not afraid to touch me, and…and…I feel afraid but at the same time like it's okay. Because it's _her_, and she'd never hurt me. There's just something about her, I don't know what, that makes promises to me that she would never hurt me. She would never hurt anyone."

Flynn bobs his head up and down like an idiot, both of us surprised at this discovery.

"So there's something about Ana's innocence, her kindness that speaks to you on another level. Even before you knew her, spoke to her, she was able to speak to you in a way no one ever has before, except Mia."

"Yes." I breathe shakily. My head aches and swims with too many thoughts. "I…I like when she hugs me." I whisper.

"You've never allowed anyone to hug you before. Not even your parents."

I nod. "And when Mia hugs me, obviously it's different than when Ana does."

"In what way?"

I shrug, not sure how to put this feeling into words. "With Mia, she hugs me because I'm her brother. She's normally a touchy-feely person, so a hug's a hug. She doesn't understand other peoples' boundaries or personal space. I don't really think much of it because she's done it her whole life with me. I guess I'm used to it. But with Ana…I feel an ache in my chest when she does it, like I don't want her to stop doing it but at the same time I don't know if I should be liking it. And I don't know what it is, but sometimes I get the feeling that maybe she needs a hug too, that it's not just all for me…does that make sense? It feels strange, because I'm aware she's touching me, but…it doesn't hurt. It doesn't _burn_, and I just don't know how to reconcile the two conflicting thoughts."

Flynn regards me carefully, and I realize I'm finished. I nod for him to speak. "So you've realized that Ana is different from anyone you've ever met before. You're attracted to her – both physically and emotionally in ways you've not been attracted to someone before. The biggest surprise here is the emotional connection; that's what's scaring you the most, correct? With your submissives it was always physical. Psychological even in the balance of control and power. But you've never had an emotional attachment to them."

"Yes. And the fact that I'm…_I'm me_."

"What does that even mean Christian? You're a young man attracted to a young woman. It's normal to form a connection physically and emotionally as you start to get to know each other."

"But once she gets to know _me_, she won't want anything to do with me."

"Why?"

"John you know why!" I bark angrily. "Would you want your daughter dating someone like me? My mother was a drug addict and a prostitute! She let men beat me and abuse me. And now, I've grown up to be just like them!"

He admonishes me sternly, the thinning of his lips in disapproval. "We've been over this Christian. You do not beat or use women – you do not use violence and abuse to belittle or harm. You're intent is not to scare, to injure, to damage. That is what separates you from your abusers. Your sexual lifestyle is one of consent – carefully selected women, agreed upon terms from both parties, and a controlled environment to ensure safety and achievement of pleasure." We've gone over this a million times, and Flynn's given me this lecture a million plus one. I scoff in annoyance.

"It doesn't matter. She won't see it that way."

"Why? Why won't she see the truth?"

"Because!" I scream. "Because! Because…because…" I shake and tremble, at a loss for words.

_Because._

"Christian. You are not an abuser. You have never abused anyone before. Your sexual preferences may be alternative and unconventional, but it is controlled. Consensual. It is safe. Are you concerned you may harm Ana?"

"Yes!"

"Why?"

"Because she's too good for me! _She's_ _too good!_"

Flynn sighs, shaking his head.

"Do you want to harm Ana?"

"No! Fuck, John, I would never do something like that."

"Would you ever want to beat her, make her bleed? Would you ever put out a cigarette on her chest? Would you ever want to hit her hard enough to bruise her, break her bones? Call her names to embarrass her? Humiliate her? Deny her of the most basic needs? Hurt her just because you can? You're a strong man, Christian. You could easily break her if you wanted to."

I feel an explosion of fury erupt from my pores. My face reddens, my body seething with undeniable rage. I stand up irately and grab Flynn by the front of his shirt, though he stares back at me with that fucking annoying emotionless expression on his face. I give him a shake to emphasis what I'm feeling, my eyes scorching with uncontainable indignation.

"I would NEVER, EVER fucking do any of those things! NEVER!" I scream deafeningly into his face. "To anyone. But especially never to Ana. I…_I care too much about her!_ _I need her more than anything in my life! _I would never let ANYONE hurt her! Do you fucking understand me? NEVER! I WOULD NEVER DO THAT TO HER! And I will FUCKING KILL anyone who does, understood? Anyone so much as thinks as laying a finger on her, and I will FUCKING. KILL. THEM."

The old clock on his wall ticks loudly in the pounding silence raging through my body. My entire body tenses readying for a fight, adrenaline, testosterone, and blood pumping furiously throughout me. _Breathe, goddamn, breathe. _He takes this moment to pry my fingers off of his shirt before motioning for me to sit. I remain standing for a few minutes too wound up and incensed to see clearly. I literally see red.

Flynn doesn't miss a beat, straightening his shirt as he gazes at me emphatically. "Do you know what you just said?" He asks carefully once I've finally taken a seat. I shake my head furiously; the last few minutes have become a complete blur. I sit feeling sick and nauseous, rocking back and forth. What the fuck is Flynn doing to me? I'm surprised I haven't yet thrown him through the pristine glass window. The fucking nerve of this quack.

"You said you _'care too much about her'_ and that you _'need her more than anything in your life'_."

He lets the words hang in the air; traitorous…and true.

I close my eyes, unable to breath. What is this feeling? Is that what this is? _I_ _care? _What I feel for her is so strong and overpowering; it's as if her presence in my life is as elemental and necessary as the air I breathe. This isn't _just_ caring, and as I chance a glance a Flynn, I know he knows it too. Jesus fuck, what the hell is this woman doing to me? She's able to speak to me on another level; to a part of me I've not known existed before. Instead of a hollow cavernous space within my chest, my heart beats with shy thrums, timidly seeking acceptance.

_Thump-thump, thump-thump_, on it goes.

Do I listen to it? Do I listen to that shy murmur, which curiously sounds like the sweet lull of _My Ana, _asking to be let in? Without even having to think about it, I chuckle at the image playing in my head of her storming up the stairs and throwing herself onto my bed that day, only now, this time, she's throwing herself onto my heart. Staking ownership. Claiming it as hers, refusing to leave.

And it is. It's hers. All hers.

It takes most of the latter half of the session for me to calm down. My limbs won't sit still and I cannot keep myself in one place for long. Flynn watches me tentatively as I pace and struggle between sitting and standing, scrutinizing each movement I make. It's nearly comical at how great of an effort it's taking on Flynn's part to remain professional and keep his poker face intact. The fucker is practically giddy with joy in his tweed pants and button-up cardigan at this new revelation.

"Let's get back to why you've come to see me, Christian."

I nod my head though no less settled. "Now that we've determined and accepted that you care about Anastasia, Ana, what would you like to see happen? What is it that you want?"

"I want to be with her." I state simply. "But I don't know how."

"You said you both agreed on a vanilla relationship, though she said she was open to trying the things that you like as well, am I correct?" I nod. "And you spent all weekend together just having vanilla sex, how was that for you?"

"It was…it was nice." I whisper. "Amazing. She's amazing."

"Christian don't you see? You're capable of being in a vanilla relationship and enjoying it."

"It was a fucking weekend, John. I'd hardly classify that as being in a relationship." I grumble.

"For you, two days is a long time to be doing something so out of your comfort zone. You've compromised, given up control and was willing to put her needs above yours, all the while enjoying it. _Wanting_ it. Perhaps being in a relationship was a poor choice of words, but it's important that you see that what you and Ana have started here has the potential to become something more. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

"I'm just concerned about hurting her. Not just physically. Yes, I enjoyed vanilla. But how long will that last?" I cringe at what I'm about to say. "What will happen when the novelty wears off?" If I'm going to be honest with myself, I need to consider the fact that yes, it may wear off. There's a reason I've never had a sub for longer than three months – other than not wanting the commitment, I get bored and move on. With Ana, everything is so new and different, but what if it ends up being the same thing? What if at three months I decide I'm ready to move on? Where will that leave Ana?

"Have you ever been concerned about what happened to your submissives once their contracts were up?"

"No. I made it clear my expectations for the length of their contract. They knew that going in."

"Would it help if you put a limit on your relationship with Ana? Would placing an end date after three months ease your concerns? That way if you do get bored, your words, you won't feel guilty over it? This way you both know?"

I take a moment to think about it as cruel as it sounds, knowing how offended she'd be by it. Rather than contracting her for three months as my submissive, would contracting her for three months as my girlfriend make this more acceptable to me?

_She's not something for you to contract, asshole. Goddamn, you're an idiot._

I don't realize how strongly I'm shaking my head and how tightly my fists are clenched until Flynn brings it to my attention. "Then what is it that you'd like to do? What would help you feel more comfortable being in this vanilla relationship with Ana?"

I shake my head, once again feeling completely lost.

"What if you were to take things slow? I think you're placing too much pressure on yourself, Christian. And too much pressure on your new relationship with Ana. You're focusing too much on what is going to happen in the future. You need to set smaller, more attainable goals for yourself so you can actually enjoy this moment as it happens. Christian, being in a relationship doesn't have to be a scary, negative experience. As you've already seen firsthand, it can be quite pleasurable in ways not limited to just sexually. You enjoy her presence and company; you've already met her friends and family. Don't get bogged down in the finer details and the what-if's. Just so long as you both understand and agree on a set of guidelines for your relationship – whatever that may be – that's all that should be of concern. You can't go on assuming you know her or how she'll react without first getting to know her. As you've already alluded to, she can be quite surprising in all ways. Give her the chance to prove herself just as you need the chance to prove yourself to her."

The clarity that rings through my head in this moment is awakening. It's as if a fog has been lifted from my world, and for the first time, I can _see._ I see the way the light from the sun shines on my glass of water. I see the calm, steady inhales and exhales of Flynn's chest. I see the minute hand on the grandfather clock tick clockwise, smooth and uninterrupted. "Walk, before you run." I deadpan, to which his lips twitch upwards into a smirk. He gives a single nod, knowing better than to bate that comment.

_Walk, before you run. _

* * *

I leave Flynn's office feeling lighter than I have before. The rest of the morning was spent discussing my want to start something with Ana, and what I need to do in order to move forward with her. It's hard not to revert to my old ways of thinking – _I'm not good enough for her, I'm a loser and she'll see that, I'm nothing and she's much better off without me – _but Flynn has found a special way to make me stop and take pause before continuing those wayward thoughts. His new secret weapon, Ana. Just the mention of her name makes me smile, an awkward feeling in the middle of the self-loathing tirades I'm so prone to, and at times unaware that I'm even doing it.

At the end of the day, I truly want to be with her. Despite all the alarm bells going off in my head, despite what Elena may say to fuck with me, and despite the fifty shades of crazy that seeps from my pores from years of thinking this way, I still want to be with her. I've booked Flynn solid for the next week, trying to fit in as many sessions as I can. The fact that I'm actually looking forward to these sessions is nothing short of a miracle, but if it means I'll finally get some guidance into how to make this relationship with Ana work, I'm all in. And I can't wait to tell her.

The drive to her apartment is a short one, my lead foot getting me to her in no time at all. I can't help but sigh with understanding as the song on the radio spells it out for me all that I'm feeling and thinking at this moment.

_/ Well I've been searching for something true  
My heart says it must be you  
I'd love to fall and see it through  
But only if you told me to  
Well I'd run through the desert, I'd walk through the rain  
Get you into trouble, and take all the blame  
I'd paint you a picture, write you a song  
And I'd do it all over if I did it all wrong_

_I don't wanna steal you away_  
_Or make you change the things that you believe_  
_I just wanna drink from the words you say_  
_And be everything you need_  
_Yeah I could be so good at loving you_  
_But only if you told me to /_

As I check my watch I realize it's almost 1:00pm. She would've left for breakfast hours ago, so hopefully when I get to her apartment she'll be home by now. But as I pull up, I notice her car is still parked on the street, and then I remember that they must've taken Ray's car. I get out stretching my legs, taking in this gloomy day. How apt, a wonderful description for how I'm feeling. Or _was_ feeling. Now, I can't wait to see her and explain to her what happened. This whole communicating thing is not something I'm used to. I'm used to people just knowing, but I realize how I can't keep thinking that way, at least when it comes to Ana. This is new for her too, and by not talking to her, all she thinks is that I'm being an asshole.

I'm reading through some emails about a deal I'm on the verge of finalizing on my phone when I see Ray's car pull up. I watch the two of them from my spot, alarmed when I see her crying. _What happened? _She says her goodbyes before Ray outs me, her eyes meeting mine. Shit, she looks angry.

"Long breakfast?" I ask, kicking off with my foot as I stroll towards her.

"My dad's the most important person to me. He deserves my time." She says quietly. The tone in her voice has me on edge; I'm anxious about my news, but also about how she's feeling towards me right now. And right now, she is not happy at all to see me. _Fuck, I can't seem to stop screwing up when it comes to her._

"I want to apologize for this morning." I start again, stopping a few feet away from her. "I realize how that must have seemed, and how it might've upset you."

"I'm not upset."

"You're not?"

She shakes her head, glaring at me. Even when she's upset with me, she looks adorable. I'll never be able to stand a chance against her in a fight.

"Right." I humor her. "Do you have time to talk?"

"No."

"No?"

"No." _Shit. _She starts towards the door, effectively ending our conversation.

"Ana." I sigh, my voice a little louder.

"Go away."

She's practically sprinting away from me before I have a chance to realize what's happening. "Wait, Ana!" I shout after her, but the door closes behind her as I finally get my legs moving. _Shit, shit, shit. _

Just as I'm about to knock down the door my phone rings, and it's Ros. Great, just what I need. I know exactly what it's going to be about, and I curse the terrible timing.

"Ros." I bark into my phone, leaning against the brick wall.

"They're not going to sign. We need to go to California."

"Then go. You can handle this without me."

"No, Christian. You need to go. They won't sign otherwise."

"Well then they can go fuck themselves. I'm not going."

She scoffs on the other end. "We're not going to lose this deal just because you don't _feel_ like going. Put your big boy panties on and get the jet ready. I'll meet you at the airport."

Of course she has the audacity to hang up on me before I can get in another word. Fucking hell. I war with myself about going upstairs to talk to Ana, but then I see a few rapid fire text messages and emails from my management team. They too, like Ros, are all on my ass to get to California, arrangements already made. My foot stutters before I curse loudly and head back for my car. Apparently California cannot wait, and I'm immediately on the phone having Gail pack me a bag before heading to the airport.

I try one last call to Ana, but she sends me straight to voicemail. _Well there goes my apology, _I sigh in defeat. I'll just have to call her once I land, hoping by then she's had enough time to cool down.

* * *

**A/N:** Thank you for all the reviews/favorites/follows! Reviews are greatly appreciated! Come find me on Facebook, Pinterest and Tumblr :)

Song: If You Told Me To – Hunter Hayes


	18. More To Offer

**CHAPTER 18 – MORE TO OFFER**  
_  
I was scared, I was unprepared  
Oh, for the things you said  
If I could undo that I hurt you  
I would do anything for us to make it through  
Draw me a smile and save me tonight  
I am a blank page waiting for you to bring me to life  
Paint me a heart, let me be your art  
I am a blank page waiting for life to start  
Let our hearts stop and beat as one together_

_-Blank Page (Christina Aguilera)-_

* * *

**(CPOV)**

The rush to get to the airport left my head in a tailspin. Having just come out of Flynn's office and eager to see Ana only to be _turned down_, needless to say I was in a foul mood not having had the chance to make things right with her before leaving. I only hope this doesn't set us back further; the last thing she needs is to think I'm running.

I feel sorry for the fuckers dragging me away from Seattle. My patience is wearing thin and I'm feeling a little ruthless right now. I'm going to get this company, and then I'm going to make them apologize for wasting my time. These amateurs are going to learn whose boss, and that's me goddammit.

Once the GEH jet has landed on the tarmac of LAX, I switch my phone back on to call her. It's clear she's still mad at me as my phone keeps going to voicemail, and a part of me can't hide my amusement over this. It's been at least two hours; surely she'd be over it by now. _Right? _I know she has every reason to be upset with me, but the image of her stomping her foot like a child ignoring me brightens my irritation when she won't pick up her phone.

***Ana, answer your phone. I'm in California, and I miss you. We need to talk, I'm sorry. – C***

Several months ago I got wind of a starter company for solar energy in California struggling to remain afloat. Despite their innovative ideas, it was their team of young up-and-comers that was working against them as they lacked the experience and knowledge to know how to run a company successfully. Their proposal was enough to pique my interest, and I knew with the help of the Grey brand backing them the potential for this company to become profitable was a given. Which is why I couldn't understand why they hadn't readily signed the deal already; in a few months' time without my help they'll go bankrupt leaving them all without jobs and me without a company that I wanted. Their resistance only encouraged me more – so here I am, some thousand miles away from home where I'd much rather be kissing the sweet lips of that stubborn girl locked away in her brick apartment making it up to her for my fuck-ups, rather than alone in my hotel suite making yet another call to the good doctor to reel in my temper.

By the end of the first day, my mind has gone to its usual place of overreaction. My patience is gone, her little tantrum no longer amusing. My mind can't help but race with images of what ifs: what if she's hurt and something's happened to her? What if she doesn't want to be my girlfriend anymore? What if she's seeing someone else now – like Kavanaugh or Rodriguez? What if she's changed her number and I'll never be able to contact her? What if she left Seattle and moved across the country, or worse, across the world?

My nerves hit an all-time high as I try her phone one last time – the fifth call in less than two minutes – and I am greeted by the annoying voice-over on her phone telling me her inbox is full. _That better be her only box that's full…_ I growl to myself. _Jesus, get a grip._

I pound away on the keys on my phone once again, willing Ana to _pick. up. the. fucking. phone._ And by some miracle, she does.

Thank fuck.

I breathe, relieved at the sound of her voice, my jealousy ebbing for a moment. "Ana."

"_What do you want, Christian? I'm a little busy here."_ She lies. Oh baby, even from here I can read your body better than you know. And right now that sweet little body of yours is lying to me. Don't ask how I know, I just do. My palm twitches and my lips tug at the corners.

I decide to get straight to the point. She may hang up on me at any minute. "I'm in California." I blurt, hearing a sharp intake of breath on the other line. She wasn't expecting that. "I got called right after I spoke to you at your apartment. I had to leave immediately. I've been trying to call you ever since."

"_Y-you're in California?"_ She whispers aghast. _"Where in California?"_

What? Who cares, that's what she wants to talk about? "Baby, that's not why I'm calling. I wanted to say I'm sorr-"

"_Where in California?"_ She presses.

"Ana, focus please. I'm trying to apologize here for breakfast. Honestly, I freaked out last night. I let someone get into my head that shouldn't have, and I'm sorry that I did. It wasn't because I didn't want to see you or have breakfast with your dad, but I felt I needed to see Flynn, uh, John Flynn my therapist to work through everything. It couldn't wait, and I was embarrassed to tell you. I'm so sorry for this mess of things that I've made."

I let her know just how sorry I was for being such a dick to her. I hadn't meant to dismiss her or make her feel unimportant, but I'm afraid that that's exactly what I did. I go for broke and tell her that I have some deep issues that I need to seriously work on, no more dicking around and dismissing my need for therapy. It's clear as fucking day that I need it and it's about time I took it more seriously. I don't tell her the details of our sessions or what exactly my issues are – there isn't enough time in the day to sort through that shit – but I let her know that I just need a little time and some trusted help to see me through this. I can hear the worry in her voice so I try my best to ease her anxieties by letting her know that I'm in good hands with Flynn. I just wish there weren't miles and miles separating us. Time and taking things slow wouldn't seem so bad if I could at least be with her, see her and let her calm my ragged nerves. She's all I need in this hour of need, her presence so utterly powerful in fixing my brokenness.

_"Is there anything I can do?"_ Her tiny voice on the other line asks, concern filling her words.

"Just knowing you're there for me is enough." I sigh, wishing she were here now. I wonder if I had just thrown her over my shoulder and made her come to LA with me if she would have found it amusing… in an 'I can't believe cavemen like you still exist' kind of way. "This is just something I need to sort through on my own; I'm sorry for the way I've handled everything. I just want to be better; I want to be good enough for you because I know you're worth it. You deserve the best and right now that's not me. At least not the current me." There's a baffling liberation as I express with honesty what it is I'm feeling. Flynn plays on repeat in my head, his mantra to take things slow and communicate with her getting me through this uncomfortable shyness I feel. I wait for her response with bated breath – unsure if what I'm waiting for is a rejection or an acceptance.

There's silence between us, but I can hear her soft sighs on the other line. _"That's the sweetest thing anyone's ever said to me."_ She whispers. _"Why do you think you're not good enough for me? Christian, _I'm _the unworthy one. You're incredible and have so much to offer." _Her warm voice melts the ache I feel from not being able to be with her. _"If it's time you need, then I can do that. Just don't push me away. I want to be here for you; however you need me to be. I just ask you tell me when something is bothering you. I don't know these things. I've never done this before."_

I clutch the phone tightly, my only connection to her. "Okay. I can try better to do that. I'm really sorry for all of this."

_"Don't be. Just… do what you have to do. I'll miss you until then."_

"I'll miss you too."

Before she hangs up, we plan a Skype session later in the week. I'm cognizant to keep in the back of my mind Flynn's words not to rush into anything, but I'm a man with needs, and that need is to see her. I vow to keep it PG but I know the minute I see her I'm sure I'll make some absurd demand that we chat naked.

_Hmm…_

The thought bounces around happily in my head; the only question now is whether or not she'd be willing to play. She _is_ full of surprises after all. Perhaps some Skype sex may be in our near future and just what we need to get back on track.

* * *

The rest of the week is spent tele-conferencing in my sessions with Flynn. I spend a lot of time trying to make sense and come to terms with what happened in his office that day I left for California, heartened to feel a growing sense of control over something so… out of my control. More importantly, I've opened myself up to his therapy. For years I've been resistant to change and acceptance, but now that I have a true reason to _want_ to change, I throw myself into it like I do everything – fully and wholeheartedly. The sessions are long and grueling, always leaving me exposed and raw by the end of it. On more than a few occasions I've ended our sessions abruptly, only to call back minutes later. It's frustrating to see Flynn's knowing smirk every time I log back on, but it's a concession I'm willing to make if it'll mean I'm one step closer to Ana.

Flynn's chats have been exhausting in all ways, but I feel that overall they've gone better than I could have hoped for. _Hope_, another new feeling I'm still trying to get used to. Hope for me, and hope for us. I'm beginning to accept that it's okay to want Ana, that it's not wrong for me to want her or to want more, and that it's okay to hope for a relationship with her. Regardless of coming from a shitty place, Flynn's British accent booms in my head telling me _I'm_ not a shitty person. I don't have to live a shitty life feeling shitty for myself all the time. I'm not entirely comfortable with the idea, and it'll take me some time to get those thoughts under control and out of my go-to spot in my brain, but I'm conscious to make a greater effort to be more accepting of the good as it comes into my life in the form of Anastasia.

I feel more confident knowing that I don't purposely want to hurt her. Not that I ever purposely wanted to hurt any of my subs, but the fear that with Ana and us not having a contract or any rules, I was afraid I wouldn't know her limits and bring her harm. Something that I would never be able to forgive myself for. The notion of any kind of harm coming her way makes me ill – a maddening feeling that startles even me. My temper has always been feared by most, but this new kind of protectiveness that I feel for her scares the shit out of even me. Because now not only am I afraid of her getting hurt, but I'm afraid I'm going to get hurt as collateral to her pain. Her pain will become mine, ten times over. I wouldn't be able to bear it.

With Flynn's guidance, and seemingly simple advice of just _asking_ her what she would like and wouldn't like, I decide I'm not ready to just let her walk out of my life. Despite my lingering thoughts that she would be better off without me. _More_ didn't have to be extreme; it was still the early stages of our friendship – _relationship?_ Seeing as relationships are also new for Ana, Flynn had warned me they we are bound to fall upon some hiccups on our way, but to not let it deter us. Or me. Particularly me. If I can just fight all my instincts about jumping to conclusions, assumptions, and listening to those mean voices in my head I should be fine. _Just fight being me_, I sigh.

Flynn's joy in seeing this change in me, this openness to try, has helped me take those steps towards the New Christian Grey knowing I have his support. Though most of the time I feel like Bambi on shaky legs, I push through one wobbly step at a time. He would never let me near an innocent girl like Ana if I were truly a danger to her, would he? Having been my therapist for years he's well attuned to all my delusional perceptions I have of myself: my fears, my weaknesses, my dark secrets. If he thought Ana was in any real jeopardy he'd warn her or protect her like any good person would do, of that I'm certain.

This past week I feel as if I've made more progress than I have from years of his therapy. Either Flynn is finally earning his paycheck, or Ana has once again wielded that special heart of hers, sharing some of it with me.

* * *

By the end of the week, I've closed the deal and added another new innovative company to my arsenal. I sit at the mahogany table in the conference room of the Four Seasons in Beverly Hills signing the papers taking ownership of the company, Greene. Not an original name but it takes after the owner, Marshall Greene, 29-year old business grad. The company is only a few years old, two to be exact, and in that time it launched and quickly lost steam. Their finances were shit, and they were met with roadblocks at every turn.

I was hardly impressed by his young assistant throwing herself at me in an effort to – I don't even know what. Seduce me? Flirt with me for a better end of the deal? Ease the anger I felt of having to come all this way with a promise of _something more_ with her while I was here? Fucking disgusting. I don't appreciate working with employers who pimp out their employees to further themselves in business, and once this company is mine, that fucker better take a good hard look in the mirror or find a job elsewhere. I will not have any scandals or sexual harassment lawsuits tied to any of my businesses.

It had finally taken a stern talking to one Marlena Steppes before her beady blue eyes nearly fell out of their sockets when I threatened to walk away for good as the both of them continued to waste my time. She was your typical LA girl – blonde hair, blue eyes, fake tits and a jarring tan. She had gone from seductive and flirtatious at the beginning of the week, to following after me like a fucking lap dog making sure I had everything I needed while keeping enough of a distance to appease me. Knowing I wasn't going to play her or Marshall's games was a sobering thought for them both, and it didn't take long for them to finally get their shit in order for me. Fucking goons, get me out of this place.

Their lack of professionalism infuriated the beast inside of me. I cursed up a storm at every turn, my face red with frustration at how utterly incompetent these imbeciles were. I was already out the door and heading back to my jet before the ink even dried on the deal, eager to get back to dreary, rainy Seattle. At least the people I have to deal with there have the good sense to not piss me off. I try to remind myself that it's because of their idiocy that I now have this new company to re-brand and manage to my liking, but it just minimally works to appease me. More than anything, I'm just ready to head home and see that beautiful brunette who said she'd be waiting for me when I got back. _Because she misses me, and I miss her._

* * *

I return to Seattle Friday afternoon just in time for lunch with Mia. Each year she hosts her Summer Bash, the kickoff to a season of extravagant parties for the rich and over-privileged. She rents out a house on the water with amazing views, a pool, and a party deck. It's one of those 'not one to miss' events on the social calendars of the Ivy leaguers and socialites; meaning a nightmare for people like me. They're not the sophisticated or professional gatherings that I would normally attend for business or that my parents would host. No, this is Mia Grey and her college buddies groping at each other and drinking until they can't see straight while listening to loud music. Fucking hell.

In usual Mia Grey style, she has been incessant in pestering me for the past few weeks to attend. It's always been a big feat for her to convince me to go; she knows me well, and knows despite this not being my scene _at all_, she, more than anyone can get me to go. It's because I can never say no to her. She is one of three women who own me; the others being Dr. Grace Trevelyn-Grey, and now, unknowingly, the wonderful Anastasia Steele.

Being the day before her big party, I know she's stressed and I could tell when she called me just as I had landed. Mia still has yet to master hosting the perfect party on her own, a skill Grace has perfected over the years, so I conceded to help her with her last minute blunders. There is no limit to how far the Grey name will go, and whatever my little sister wants, she'll get.

Sitting on the patio drinking chilled wine, I can't help but smile when I see the tornado that is my baby sister as she breezes through the restaurant. She is dressed daringly as only Mia can get away with – a large floppy straw hat, oversized sunglasses, and a long pink and orange Aztec-print dress. She looks like she's getting ready to go to the beach, not a restaurant in downtown Seattle.

"Christian!" She squeals loudly as she walks quickly towards me, arms full of shopping bags.

"Gees, Mia. Why didn't you leave these in your car?" I admonish as I hold out her seat for her.

"The rest of the stuff is there. This is just the stuff I got on my way here."

"From your car to the restaurant?"

She smirks. _Of course._ I had given her my black American Express card – The Centurion – and she has taken full advantage of all the privileges that came with it. I wouldn't expect anything less from her.

"Thank you again for helping me with all of this. I just don't understand how some people can be so irresponsible and cancel on something so last minute. The DJ I had hired cancelled and the catering company screwed up the menu! It was not at all the food I had chosen for tomorrow." She wrinkles her nose in disgust. "I'd rather eat take-out than the garbage they were trying to serve as passable at my party." She huffs, taking off her ridiculous hat and smoothing down her sleek black hair.

"You've changed your hair." I notice, her hair not in its usual chin-length bob.

"Yes! Thank you for noticing." She gushes, fluffing up the ends. She chatters on about the extensions she had put in, her hair now coming down to well below her shoulders. _As if I really care._ "I thought it would be good for the summer, a new look for my party, ya know?" Reaching over for my glass, she takes a refreshing sip. "Speaking of which, you still haven't RSVP'd. It's tomorrow Christian!"

"Mia, you know those things aren't my thing." I sigh, taking my glass back from her. I wave over the waiter to get her her own drink.

"Having fun isn't your thing?" She teases sullenly. "Christian I've worked so hard for this party! You have to be there!"

"Mia, I don't want to hang out with a bunch of your friends pawing at me all day. It's annoying."

"There'll be other people there too. Elliot's bringing his friends. The house is amazing! It has a huge pool overlooking the water. The neighboring houses are empty so we don't have to worry about noise complaints. And I've got the best DJ, now thanks to you, and caterer. Mom would be proud of my party planning mastery aside from the few little blips." She grins smugly. "You do this every year. At least in the past you've had the decency to stop by. Please tell me you'll at least try to stay a little longer this time?" She stares at me with her deep green eyes and knows she has me within seconds. I'm fucking putty in her hands.

"I'll try to stop by, I doubt I'll stay." I relent, and she takes it to mean that I'll definitely be there.

"Oh don't be silly! You'll have such a good time you won't even remember that you're not supposed to be having fun."

Mia continues to talk throughout lunch, speaking every thought that comes into her head. I can't help but chuckle every time Mia actually decides to take a breath before somehow finding more words to detail everything going on in her life. It's as if she's forgotten that she calls me daily, multiple times more often than not, and now feels the need to purge her entire life story to me.

"By the way!" She suddenly screeches both hands now on the table. "I can't believe I forgot to ask you, but _who_ is that girl in the picture?" Her eyes are wild with excitement, eager for me to purge my own life story to her. _Get real Mia that will never happen. _

I inwardly groan. I had forgotten about those pictures, the one Elena had also seen, and the gossip rags that had ran rampant the day after. I was thankful no one seemed to know who Ana was, and being out of the city meant they couldn't hound me for answers so the novelty waned, but the headlines all read along the same lines of 'who is this mystery girl Christian Grey was seen with'. We hadn't even been doing anything in the picture, we were simply in the same shot, yet it was enough to get the rumor mills going.

"Are you seeing someone? Is she your girlfriend? Who is she? How come I haven't met her yet!" Mia pouts insolently as she pulls her chair closer, her face in mine, waiting for answers. She pulls out the saved picture of Ana on her phone before shoving it in my face. Of course she has the picture saved on her phone.

"Mia, I've seen the picture." I grumble pushing her hand away and leaning back in my chair.

"Christian Grey you better start talking." She warns, eyes narrowed and I know we won't be ending lunch until Mia gets her answers. Sometimes I fear she takes up _too_ much after me, and groan knowing there's no one to blame for her behaviour other than myself. _My own little monster creation._

Staring at her aloofly, Mia is undeterred. I sigh in exasperation. "Her name is Anastasia."

"Anastasia! She sounds like a princess!" Mia gushes, clasping her hands together. "Where did you meet her? How do you know her? How long have you been together? Oh my god, BRING HER TO THE PARTY TOMORROW!" Her face stretches into a wide smile that spans her entire face I fear it may split in two. The shrill squeal of her excitement makes me wince, and I admonish her to calm down or I'm leaving.

"I met her while out one night, and then she interviewed me for her college's newspaper. That picture was at her graduation on Monday."

"She's my age? Now you have to bring her! Oh my god we'll be best friends!"

"She's not… she's just… she's a _friend_." I finish lamely.

"You don't have friends."

"Exactly, so you can see why I don't want to bring her to your party tomorrow. You'll scare her."

"Christian!" She shrieks, pushing my shoulder. "Oh this is going to be good! My friends are going to _hate_ her!" She gleams wickedly. "God, my friends have been in love with you for forever. It's disgusting. I like Anastasia already!"

"She doesn't even know about your party. She might have plans tomorrow, I haven't even asked-"

"Then ask her now. God, you're so clueless sometimes."

"Mia." I chide.

"Call her!" She says in exasperation.

I eye my phone cautiously. Truthfully, I wanted a way, an excuse, to see her. We had briefly talked during the week, mainly me reassuring her that I was indeed okay, but I was desperate to see her again. It has been nearly a week, _okay 5 days_, and my naked-Skype session didn't quite pan out as I'd hoped. Ana Steele – afraid to be naked on camera. She wouldn't even take her top off for me. _I'll change that…_

Further adding insult to injury, this morning she called to tell me that she had gotten a job and spent all day shopping for new work clothes with Kate and had plans all evening. Meaning I wouldn't get a chance to see her if at all today. It was hard not to pout childishly, as I willed her with my mind to cancel her plans with Kate so she would spend time with me instead. _Is that really so unreasonable?_

"I don't even know if she likes parties."

"Christian, she just graduated college. Of course she likes parties. You're such an old man sometimes."

I chuckles as she pushes blindly on the keys of my phone. Raising her eyebrows expectantly, I groan knowing Mia wants me to call her _now._

_Fuck, this is embarrassing_.

Trying for relaxed, I reach for my phone and dial her number. I swallow nervously, turning away from Mia's intruding gaze. I can't help but smile when she answers on the first ring. "Hi Ana."

"_Christian!_ _How are you_?"

Once pleasantries are out of the way, I decide to just ask her before I lose my nerve and receive a patented scolding from Mia. "Do you have plans tomorrow? My sister is having a party and I'd like if you came with me." I feel Mia's impatient stare as she tries to contain her excitement. She's already convinced that we'll be attending. And that she has a new best friend. _What is the matter with this girl?_

_"A party?"_ She asks. _"Yeah, I would love to. What kind of party?"_ Her voice is light and airy and makes me want to keep her talking just so I can listen. There's nothing I don't enjoy about this girl. Except for the way she can make me feeling like a raging lunatic… or a man so horny it feels like I haven't fucked in years… or a bumbling idiot nervous and inept at everything I do…

"It's a pool party tomorrow afternoon. Uh listen, could I drop by? I'm just at lunch with my sister Mia, but maybe afterwards?" I glare at Mia, no longer comfortable with her peering eyes. Truthfully I'm just too tense to converse. There are actual beads of sweat forming on my brow. _Fuck me._

_"Oh, yes, of course! Are you able to drop by soon? Kate and I are just stopping by the apartment for a bit before heading out with her parents to celebrate."_

"Okay…I'll see you soon. Say 10 minutes?"

_"Sounds good, see you then!"_

After hanging up, Mia stares at me pointedly. "We weren't done lunch."

"We are now. But you'll get to meet her tomorrow." I placate, and it works.

"I can't wait! Does mom or Elliot know about Anastasia? Ana?"

"Ana. And no, no one does."

This only gets her more excited. I pay for our meal before helping her carry her bags out to her car. Then, with a shaky breath, I head to mine and drive to Ana's apartment.

* * *

I'm so fucking nervous, it's pathetic. I've gone all week without seeing her, and fuck it, I miss her. I know Flynn and I agreed that it would be best to take things slow, perhaps seeing each other only a few times a week so as to not overwhelm each other, but I just know the minute I see her I won't be able to keep my clothes on. My poor dick has missed being inside of her warm, tight body. And my brilliant idea of having some Skype sex not going as planned left me in a tense mood. _Soon, big guy. Soon._

Pulling onto the street I see her waiting for me on the stoop to her building. Her hair is in a messy ponytail, and she's wearing a simple white cotton jersey dress with buttons all along the back, and an over-sized breast pocket. _Mmm, those breasts_…

She waves enthusiastically as she sees me and I try not to run towards her. _Be cool, fucker_. "Hey." She chirps, and I think she's going to barrel into me before she quickly catches herself. She places her tiny hand on my forearm to steady herself, her smile never leaving her face as she leans up on her tip-toes to greet me.

"Hi." I say shyly, because I am. Shy. _Fuck_.

"So…a party?" She queries animatedly.

I give her the details – the pool, beach wear, lots of food and loud music. I warn her that it's mostly going to be Mia's friends, some of Elliot's and other random people Mia knows.

"You make it sound like it's going to be a high school party rather than a grown up party." She snickers and I can't help but smile. We sit on the stoop like a couple of teenagers discussing this weekend's party. _Would it be wrong to make out like a couple of horny teenagers, too?_

"It may seem sophisticated, but it'll feel like a high school party. Nothing but drunk rich kids getting more drunk."

"Hmm, my kind of party." She titters though I think she's joking. I hope she's joking.

"So you'll come?"

"Of course! It sounds fun!"

I smile in relief. "Oh, feel free to bring Kate if you want. I don't think Mia will mind." I actually kind of want the bothersome Katherine there; I'm suddenly feeling anxious being around Ana all by myself. There's too much pressure all of a sudden, and I could use the buffer.

"Hmm, she's actually going out of town tomorrow." She frowns. "She would have loved to go. Kate and parties go hand-in-hand. But thanks for the offer."

I shrug, and there goes that.

"Would you like to come inside?" She offers after a beat. _Yes, I would. I would like to come inside you, over and over._

I shake my head and anxiously scratch the back of my neck. _Keep it under control, Grey._ "I actually need to get a few last minute things ready for Mia for tomorrow." I lie. "But I'll pick you up tomorrow before noon? Don't bother eating lunch; there'll be plenty of food there."

"Great, food and a bikini. That doesn't have bad idea written all over it."

Kissing her cheek, just because I have to touch her, I whisper, "You have nothing to worry about. You'll look beautiful in anything." Pulling away I grin at her blush and give her a second peck on the cheek before stepping back. My lips tingle with relief at her skin touching mine. "Tomorrow, noonish." I finish with a wave as I walk away.

Any longer and I would've dragged her upstairs and that would most definitely not be taking things slow as per Flynn's orders.

* * *

**A/N:** Thank you for all the reviews/favorites/follows! Reviews are greatly appreciated! Come find me on Facebook, Pinterest and Tumblr :)


	19. Summer Lovin', Part I

**CHAPTER 19 – SUMMER LOVIN', PART I**

_You make me feel like I'm livin' a_  
_Teenage dream, the way you turn me on_  
_I can't sleep, let's run away and_  
_Don't ever look back, don't ever look back_

_My heart stops when you look at me_  
_Just one touch, now baby I believe_  
_This is real, so take a chance and_  
_Don't ever look back, don't ever look back_

_-Teenage Dream (Katy Perry)-_

* * *

**(CPOV)**

Twelve o'clock.

Prompt as ever, I pull up to Ana's brick apartment building glancing up at her window. The lights are on in the kitchen and her bedroom, and I wonder which room she's in at this very moment. The butterflies are revving to go in my stomach, fueling the embarrassing shyness washing over me. Other than briefly seeing her yesterday, it's been six days since we've spent any quality time together and as excited as I am to finally get that time, I'm equally as nervous as we take this new step with Christian 2.0.

Like that kid in school that always sat in the front of the class and asked all the questions only to be the one to answer all of them, I look down at my little notepad I've started to carry around with me with all of Flynn's guiding words scribbled across the tiny pages. To prove that I was taking Flynn's advice seriously, I started to jot down notes from our sessions and read them over whenever I had the chance. I trace over the meager list on the first page, the words in big, bold, shouty capitals to emphasize their importance. I've never felt dorkier.

_1. GO SLOW  
2. TALK TO HER_

I never said it was an extensive list, but an important one I felt needed to be written down. It seems so simple, yet I'm unable to remember these little things when it really matters. I wonder if I could get Andrea to laminate this like a business card to put in my wallet. Surely, that would be less nerdy than this notepad.

Over and over I read the list, burning it into my memory. I also take a moment to glance down at the statements Flynn asserts are true for me: that I'm a good person, a worthy person, and that if I wanted to I could be really good for Ana and her for me.

It's important that I remember not to shut her down or shut her out whenever it's convenient for me. Being considerate of someone else's feelings is still new to me, further showing what an asshole I've been my entire life. But now, as I tuck the notepad away into the glove compartment for safe keeping, I take a deep breath to release the 'negative' thoughts.

_If all you think are negative thoughts, there will never be room for positive ones. _

Taking one last glance in the mirror, I give myself one last pep talk before going inside. It's only Ana, _the most incredible woman you'll ever meet,_ and this is no big deal. It's only a party. She _wants_ to see you. She _misses_ you.

Climbing out of my smoky grey Audi R8 V10 Spyder, top down, I relish in having had the drive to myself. I've given Taylor the day off to spend with his daughter, though he was sure to send over some of his guys to help with security at Mia's party. I figure this way I would at least have a few moments alone with Ana before the party, in which I'm sure we won't have another moment alone until we leave. I have no doubt hurricane Mia will be hovering around much to my annoyance. _My wonderfully annoying sister._

Stepping onto the sidewalk, the sun sits high and the sky's a clear blue much like Ana's bright eyes. I walk quickly, feeling ridiculous in my black swim shorts and grey sleeveless shirt on the streets of Seattle. I feel as if these shorts are a bit… revealing in that they do little to cover up anything. They're thin and flimsy, and a little too 'free' for my liking. Fuck, it's too late now. I never wear anything other than suits and the occasional jeans on weekends out in public, so I duck my head to keep from being seen. More so I'm just eager to see her, and what kind of bikini she'll be wearing. That girl is sexy as hell, lucky bastard that I am, and I know it'll be damn near impossible to keep my hands off of her as she prances around in some skimpy outfit all day. I can't decide whether to be jealous that others will also be able to see her, or revel in triumph that she's there with me instead of them. It's frustrating not being able to keep a straight train of thought these days I note in exasperation as I adjust my stupid shorts. _Ana, Ana, Ana._

* * *

She answers the door looking every bit as fuckable as I remember. Wearing just her swimsuit, she blushes, apologizing that she's not yet ready.

I've been nothing but feelings and hormones all week, _fuck it I've become a girl_, but seeing her wearing next to nothing has effectively detonated my tightly wound self-control. I'm no longer thinking with the right head, and hastily bring my hand up to the back of her neck and draw her in, hungrily kissing her pink lips as I back her into the wall. _What was on that damn list again?_

She hesitates only for a moment before she returns my kiss with equal intensity, her fingers curling in my hair and tugging possessively in that way that gets me really going. Pulling her flush against me, my shirt rides up just enough so I can feel her warm skin against mine eliciting a deep groan of approval from our tangled lips. I don't stop; my mouth greedy to claim hers for as long as possible.

Once our kiss comes to a happy finish, she pulls away, her cheeks glowing pink as she demurely bites her now swollen lip. I raise my eyebrows in warning and she smiles sheepishly as she lets it go. "Hi." She breathes, and I can't help but chuckle.

"Hi."

I take a moment to look at her and these damn shorts do nothing to hide the pole standing at attention. My week old boner wants to come out and greet her properly, ravage her thoroughly like I know we both would like. Those few seconds of contact my hips had against hers was not nearly enough to satisfy, but enough to wake the big guy up. She stares at the bulge playfully, admonishing it like an errant child.

"You need to put that thing away." She grins.

I grin back, taking a slow look up and down her perfectly sculpted body. She's nothing but curves and fine lines in her one-piece mint green swimsuit, plunging fringe v-neckline and cut-outs on the sides. Her tits peek out seductively at me, wanting for me to take them and release them from their prison in order to shower them with kisses and _other things_. They look much bigger squeezed together, and I try not to think too much about burying my face in them, feeling their softness caress my cheeks, my nose, my lips. Or the thought of sliding my dick in between them until I can't take it anymore.

_Fuck._

Taking in the site of her, I can't decide whether or not I'm happier that she's wearing a one piece. The revealing and teasing nature of it makes it even sexier than if she had been wearing a bikini. I trace the outline of her swimsuit, reveling in the way her body quivers at the slightest touch.

Her hair falls down in loose waves and she has some mascara and lip gloss on; nothing else. _Such a natural beauty._ I see her cute little freckles popping up on her nose and the few that splatter across her chest, and all I can think about is connecting the dots with a swipe of my tongue, allowing the taste of her skin to linger on me.

"Stop!" She giggles, following my gaze onto her chest as I stare like the horny fuck that I am. Hungrily I lick my lips as she crosses her arms over her chest, pushing those tits even closer together. Her laughs continue to grow as she quickly pulls on a short cream open-knit cover-up and a pair of gold sandals in a vain attempt to get me to stop staring. "We're going to be late."

"I'm in no hurry." I smirk lazily, squeezing her hand as I swing it back and forth. She shakes her head with laughter.

"No, come on. I don't want to be late."

"It's a party. No one cares if you're late."

"And you go to many parties?" She teases, eyebrow raised.

_She got me there._

Grabbing her hand, we walk outside and her eyes light up when she sees my car parked on the curb. Yes, it is quite the sexy car, and it'll be even sexier once she's in it. I try to gather my wits as we settle inside and make the long drive to the party outside of the city, the scent of her coconut lotion filling the interior of my car reminding me that she is indeed sitting next to me. Turning on the radio, the car comes to life with music as I pull out onto the street, willing myself to remain calm enough to get there.

* * *

I can tell she wants to ask me how I am, if I'm okay, _blah blah blah_, but she's too nervous to do so. I don't like that she's afraid to talk to me, though I can't blame her considering how I acted the last few times. I sneak a few glances her way as I drive, but her eyes remain diligently focused ahead. The awkward tension is stifling, so unlike us, so I decide to just go for broke.

"First, I just want to say I'm sorry. For everything." I shake my head; _why am I always apologizing to her?_ "The thing is… I'm already a shitty boyfriend, man friend, whatever I am to you." I grit out, drowning in embarrassment. "I don't know how to be a good one, but being around you makes me want to really try and figure this shit out because I just want to be with you at the end of the day." My nerves are burning on high I don't even realize I'm speeding down the highway until I see us zooming past other cars. I take my foot off the gas pedal, easing us back to a safer speed. I can't be reckless around her.

I must protect her. I must keep her safe.

"Baby, slow down it's okay." She says gently, placing her hand comfortingly on my thigh to slow the words as they stumble haphazardly out of my mouth. She wraps her arm around my free one, her hand coming to meet mine on the console separating us.

"I just want to say I'm sorry for being weird all week. I know you must be freaked out and I know how crazy this all is. But… _fuck it_." I grumble. "I just want to be with you!" I huff unable to put it any other way. "I just want us to be together, and to be able to make this work."

I risk a quick look her way only to catch her smiling that brilliant smile of hers. She's staring back at me, and I fumble with the steering wheel for a second as she leans over and plants a loud kiss on my cheek.

"You already know I have these issues; the scars, the anger, all this dark shit clouding over me. Flynn's been my therapist for years, and I admit over the years I haven't taken his advice seriously, but more so than ever I've taken to heart what we've been working on over the past week." She nods her head urging me to continue. "The thing is, I just don't know how to be in a regular relationship. I've never been in one before. But with you I want something completely different from what I've had in the past. I want to give our vanilla relationship an honest try, if you still want to."

Rather than seeing disgust or pity in her eyes, she's smiling that secret smile of hers. My lips twitch in amusement as I wonder what on earth she thinks about when she has that smile on. It puts me on high alert – mischievous, sneaky, and sexy all at once, I can't decide how to prepare myself around her. "Kinky vanilla." She whispers. "Being tied up, the blindfold, toys…" She utters shyly, her face a sweet shade of pink. "I'd like to try a _kinky_ vanilla relationship with you."

I can't stop the boyish grin from crossing my face as she re-names our _relationship_. That's what this is – a relationship. I, Christian Grey, am in a _relationship._

I curse myself for having the misfortune of having to drive while she makes this declaration; more than anything I contemplate the possibility of pulling over to the side of the road to have her christen my car, yet another first, before the party. But just as the thought settles in my head, I can see the house coming into view and I can't risk Mia inexplicably popping out like a horror movie. Knowing my luck and knowing Mia, that's exactly what would happen.

"_Kinky vanilla_." I test the words on my tongue and it sounds just as wonderful as it did coming out of her mouth.

As soon as we pull into the mile-long driveway and drop the car off at the valet service Mia had organized, I pull Ana aside before soundly kissing her lips 45-minutes in the making. I'm elated that she's agreed and willing to try with me once again and I know I won't be able to go the entire party without keeping my hands to myself. _Fuck going slow._

Our kiss is cut short, of course, as I hear Mia barrelling through the front doors towards us. "OH MY _GOD_!" She shrieks, and I feel Ana shrink next to me, a tense smile on her lips. Mia immediately has Ana wrapped up in her arms and I smile apologetically towards her.

"Hi." She squeaks out before Mia finally lets go of her. Mia crudely looks her up and down but before I can reprimand her for being rude, Mia hugs her once more.

"Oh my gosh! Anastasia! You are gorgeous! God my brother's lucky!" She releases a flustered looking Ana before giving me a hug. Mia shoots me her impish grin, rubbing her hands together excitedly. "My friends are going to absolutely _hate_ you." She titters, but at Ana's look of dread she quickly adds, "I told them that Christian was bringing someone today. They're all madly in love with him. They have no idea who you are, but they all think he's going to bring some troll. As if Christian even knows anyone that isn't perfect." She huffs. "But you… gosh I'm just going to say it, you are fucking hot. Like, _really_ pretty."

"_Mia!_" I chide, pulling Ana to my side as she hides her face in my shoulder out of embarrassment.

"And she's modest too! Where have you been all this time?" Her excitement is infectious and I see Ana relax some. She eagerly grabs Ana's hand before dragging her inside, me closely following behind. Shit, maybe I should've warned Ana more about Mia; if she can survive Mia, she can survive anyone.

She shows Ana off like a show-pony as she introduces us to everyone while we walk through the house. I want to feel bad for Ana, and I do, but my sister is just so absurd even I don't stand a chance against her. A part of me actually enjoys seeing the two of them together; Ana's far too kind to be anything but polite even if she didn't want to. But she continues to humor Mia by following her around, introducing herself to her friends. She's a pro at working the crowd, and I can't help but beam with pride that my super shy girlfriend can so easily command the attention of everyone in the room. She's absolutely superb.

Standing off to the side as I wait for Mia to be done parading Ana around to her friends, I look around me to find half-naked girls running around and squealing as they pass by, their greedy eyes lingering on me too long for my liking. The music blares loudly you can feel the bass in your chest, and I fixate my impassive look on their intruding gazes and futile attempts at seduction. I recognize a few as some of Mia's closer friends, ones she's known since high school but I pay them no attention. I didn't care for them then, and now that I'm most definitely taken, I certainly don't care for them now.

_Taken. _Who would've thought?

I note the wall-length sliding door leading out to the two-tier deck overlooking the water has been pushed open to create an impressive indoor/outdoor space. The light hardwood floors contrast nicely against the cool cream and orange colors of the house, as people shuffle in and out of the heat into the coolness of the interior. Wait staff dressed sharply in whites wander about seamlessly throughout the throngs of people offering an endless supply of chilled drinks and warm appetizers. It's a stunning house – modern and contemporary, with an enviable location right on the water with a stretch of sand as far as the eye can see.

I will admit Mia's done an impressive job all things considering, my only wish being these banal girls would keep their fucking distance. I would never take Ana for the jealous type, but I certainly don't want to find that out the hard way. Word quickly spreads that we've arrived – or me, probably me – and the house starts to crowd more as people shoot not-so-subtle glances my way. It's annoying that I can't just be here and enjoy myself; don't these people have anything better to do than to gawp at me?

The second Mia turns her back once receiving word that more guests have arrived I seize the moment and grab Ana's hand before Mia can protest. She calls out to us that she promises to be right back, but I'm no longer listening. We're already half-way down one of the hallways before I pull Ana into one of the guest rooms, shutting the door swiftly behind us before anyone else can get a second glance.

* * *

Standing in the room next to her, our first moment alone since Hurricane Mia, I stare at her for a moment before she breaks out into a fit of laughter.

"I'm so, so sorry for her. God, Mia is… in a class all on her own. I swear if she wasn't my sister, I would have killed her years ago."

She giggles some more, wrapping her arms around my waist and nuzzling her cheek against my throat as she kisses my jaw. "No, I like her. She reminds me of Kate. Well, maybe Kate on drugs, or drunk Kate." She teases.

I eye her warily, but she seems unfazed by her introduction to Mia. "I've missed that sound." I say kissing her lips softly.

"Mmhm."

"If at any time you want to leave, just let me know okay? You still have to meet Elliot, and he too is in a class all on his own. Not as bad as Mia, _well_… but crazy nonetheless."

She beams up at me, not in the least bit concerned. _So naïve, you have no idea what you're getting yourself into pretty girl._

Placing our bags on the bed, I turn around just in time for my little minx to grab my hand and pull me into the en-suite bathroom, locking the door behind her. Her sexy smirk is in place, and I gulp nervously at what I _think_, and what I _want_, to happen next.

Nonchalantly I'm able to mumble, "What are you doing?"

"Helping you out of your clothes?" She asks innocently. She continues to walk towards me, causing me to stumble back until I hit the sink feeling clumsily around me. _Shit, now what?_ "Something wrong?" She asks trying to appear concerned, but she's fighting off the laughter threatening to swarm her tiny body. I shake my head. _Slow, slow… _

_Slow?_

"We should probably get changed." My little kitten purrs, running her finger across my lips. I nod my head once more. "This is a pool party after-all, and I think we're both a little overdressed. What do you think?"

Standing directly in front of me, she reaches for the hem of her cover-up before pulling it up and over in one quick swoop before tossing it carelessly to the floor. I'm once again greeted by those perky tits peeking out at me, begging me to release them from Ana's cruel captivity. _Please, Sir. _Reaching for the hem of my shirt, careful of where she touches, she looks towards me for permission. With the tiniest nod I give her the go-ahead as she pulls it off. Her lips curl upwards, her cheeks turning a few shades with her arousal at my state of undress. I love how easily turned on she gets.

"Do you have..?" She trails coyly, though her eyes never leave mine. I'm completely mesmerized by her and awkwardly reach into my pocket to get what she wants. I note the shakiness of my hands, annoyed with myself. _Get it together, Grey._

Snaking one arm around my neck she closes the distance between us, her pouty lips hungrily kissing mine in slow, unhurried pulls. Stroke after stroke, her tongue asserts itself in my mouth, staking ownership of her property.

I fight with myself knowing how quickly things escalate between us. Neither of us are any good at keeping our urges under control, a feral need to touch each other and quench this smoldering heat whenever we're together, much too strong to deny. But I wanted our first time back together to be special; it's what she deserves, even as she's grinding her hips against me, the friction setting my body on a maddening frenzy silencing all other thoughts. I don't _want_ to stop her. My week long boner is taking a stand and refusing to bow out now. _We're so close to the promise land._

I try to tell her we don't have to do this just so she knows_,_ but she looks at me as if _I'm_ crazy. "Ana, are you sure?" I pant in-between her torturous kisses. God she tastes so good. Just to prove her point, she deepens her kiss, her tongue sliding further down my mouth I can't help but let out a whimpering mewl of appreciation for her capable oral skills. Her lips curl wickedly, but she doesn't stop. She wraps one of her long, sexy legs around me, pulling me towards her in one sharp movement my dick happily bumps into her. _Yesss._

"Lift me." She growls as her hands continue to grip and grab at my hair, my neck, my shoulders – wherever she can reach. I do as I'm told as my wannabe Domme calls the shots. I don't know if she even realizes what she's doing, but it's sexy as sin, sexy as fuck, sexy as only Ana can be and I'm ready to play by her rules.

Lifting her, I spin her around so she's sitting on the bathroom counter, her legs a vice-like grip around my waist. She wriggles the straps of her swimsuit off her shoulders releasing her two perfectly shaped tits, her perky brown nipples pointing directly at me. She unwraps her legs long enough for me to pull her swimsuit off of her completely, mindful to keep it in one piece instead of shredding the flimsy piece of clothing.

Gloriously, she sits naked on the counter, nothing but wavy brown locks, big blue eyes, pebbly nipples and creamy soft skin just for me. She leans back on her hands, her legs dangling off the edge, her smoldering 'fuck me' look painted across her innocent face.

_Shit, shit, shit._

I quickly drop my swim trunks and take the throbbing beast between my legs in my hands, stroking him a few times staring back at this exquisite beauty before me. She never breaks eye contact, and I realize this is one of her tricks to get me to bend to her will. She sits there in complete control, powerful and ready to get what she wants without lifting a finger. She's so fucking sexy my balls ache mercilessly. _Yes, Mistress._

My brain has official shut off as I close the distance and pull her flush against me once more, her tits squished between us, her wet pussy molded to my stomach as I drive my tongue into her mouth in a vain attempt to assert myself back on top.

It doesn't work.

I join her on the counter before pulling her onto my lap, her legs thrown over my thighs. Her naked body is soft and smooth against mine as we kiss, slow but desperate. I'm mindful to try and make this last, but the way her tongue swirls and the way she gently nips my lip makes it impossible.

"I want you. Now. To fuck me. _Hard_." She orders in-between each kiss that becomes more wet than the last. I'm no longer able to keep my head on straight, and I reach in between her legs parting her slick folds, coating my fingers in her sticky excitement.

"Are you sure?"

"Did I stutter?" She barks audaciously, her voice low and taunting me. This blunt, direct, and _dominating_ side of her is such a turn on; I know I should be scared, I have no doubt she could definitely give me a run for my money, but I won't let her know that just yet. Right now, she's just so wound up that that sweet little mouth of hers is just waiting to let out those garbled fuck words she spews during sex. _Such a filthy little thing._

Dragging the tip of my dick up and down her slit, taking a moment to swirl over her clit, she spreads her legs farther apart encouraging me with her openness, mine for the taking. She's so bold when she wants to fuck, eager for her orgasm. _Unfff_.

Slowly I slide the tip just into her warm body, before gently pushing inch by inch until we're completely connected. We both let out garbled words, commands tumbling from our lips as she orders me that she wants it _harder… faster… more, more, more dammit!_ Her screams get louder as we continue to bump and bang into each other over and over. Lifting her into my arms and letting gravity help slam her down on my dick pushes her into a frenzied state of pleasure. She whimpers in my arms as she continues to demand more, her body tightening around me as her orgasm quickly climbs to its peak.

I stand there, muscles taut with her in my arms, as I watch in the mirror as my dick grinds in and out of her pink pussy, red and swollen from fucking. I feel the tightening of my balls as they ready for their spectacular finish. It's not long until I see her toes curl and feel her body strangle around mine as sweat drips down her neck, those breasts, and down to the dark wet abyss where our bodies have become one.

She buries her head in my neck and begins to mewl as I drive the final thrusts pushing her over the edge to her explosive finale. She bites my neck with her teeth while digging her nails into my shoulders as she shudders delightfully, my body eager to milk each tremor from her pulsing body. I continue to watch our reflection as her pussy drips with her wet juices sliding down her thighs nowhere else to go. My own orgasm follows shortly after, no longer able to hold it off, shattering me through and through. My dick shoots off into her, filling her with my own cocktail and she clenches down tightening her hold around me, greedy to claim each convulsion as I throb inside of her.

I struggle to catch my breath as I gently sit her back down on the counter, limbs shaky from exhaustion. I grab a towel nearby to wipe up the creamy puddle between her legs and off my dick, tired hands working away. I feel lightheaded and wrecked, panting for air.

Completely spent, her body goes limp against mine, her cheek resting on my shoulder, her arms around my neck. I kiss her arm, her shoulder, her hair as she takes in slow deep breathes. Her skin is hot and sweaty against mine, my pounding heart on the verge of bursting out of my chest. The loud _knock-knock-knock _on the room's main door reminds us of where we are, and I grumble knowing we better get dressed before Mia breaks in looking for us.

Gingerly I pick up Ana, her body like a wet noodle in my arms. "Come on, we better get outside." I kiss her lips sweetly, and she smiles lazily at me.

"Mmm, no. Let's do that again."

I chuckle as I hand her her swimsuit back, and we both make ourselves decent after a quick rinse-off in the shower. Grabbing her hand, she gives me a shy smile before we head out the side door and towards the patio. Incredible doesn't even begin to describe what just happened, but I feel more like myself, and I think she does too.

_Ah yes, I'm back._

* * *

**A/N:** Thank you for all the reviews/favorites/follows! Reviews are greatly appreciated! Come find me on Facebook, Pinterest and Tumblr :)

Credit goes to Showdog for the boner ;)


	20. Summer Lovin', Part II

**CHAPTER 20 – SUMMER LOVIN', PART II**

_Give me your, give me your, give me your attention baby_  
_I got to tell you a little something about yourself_  
_You're wonderful, flawless, ooh you're a sexy lady_  
_But you walk around here like you wanna be someone else_

_I know that you don't know it, but you're fine, so fine_  
_Oh girl I'm gonna show you when you're mine, oh mine_

_-Treasure (Bruno Mars)-_

* * *

**(CPOV)**

Walking back out into the sun with this inexplicably perfect woman on my arm, I can't keep the goofy grin off of my face. I've been nothing but tense and distracted these past few days; it's a wonder what this girl does to me. Somehow she manages to be both the reasons for and the solutions to all of my problems, leaving my head in a constant tailspin. Does she have any idea she's doing this to me? Whatever _this_ is?

Mirroring the relief I feel with her own beaming grin, she walks hand-in-hand next to me as we head towards a smiling Mia who excuses herself from the small crowd forming around her. With a dramatic gasp as Mia approaches, Ana stifles her tiny giggle at me.

"Wow, you look great Ana. I love that suit on you." Mia compliments as Ana shyly diverts her gaze. "You have an amazing body."

"Jesus, Mia." I scold.

"I'm just saying!" She says in her defense, hands raised in surrender. "I'm just jealous, that's all. You're probably the hottest girl at my party, you're so petite." She pouts.

Ana shakes her head vehemently. "Mia, that's really kind of you to say. But I beg to differ, profusely. You, on the other hand, you're beautiful."

I can't stop the glare as my eyes narrow on her, then Mia. I hate that they think this way about themselves. Can't they both be pretty? _Women._

"Well, I guess we'll have to agree to disagree on that." Mia smiles.

We chat for a bit before Mia excuses herself as she returns to her hostess duties and we go to mingle. And by mingle, I mean having Mia's friends persistently approach us as if we're all old friends. I try to rein in my disdain while Mia's girlfriends transparently ignore Ana, batting their lashes and pouting their lips at me asking how I am and how work is going – as if they even have a fucking clue what it is that I do. The attraction has always been the pretty face and the wealth they all know I have, and I grit my teeth to keep from giving them each a lashing of nasty words to simply _back the fuck off. _

Wrapping my arm possessively around Ana's slender waist in hopes that these bimbos will get a fucking clue that I'm not here alone nor interested in their shit, they continue their pursuit into gaining access to my good graces. Their outright flirting and disrespect towards Ana makes me want to rip my hair out but she doesn't seem to mind at all. She seems amused even, at least I think it's amusement, as she stands idly by unconcerned. Politely she remains by my side, no glares or daggers or anything spewed their way. I wish I could say the same for me. _Fucking vultures_.

It's not until I see some shaggy haired wannabes ogle her as they linger around, complete disregard for the proprietary arm I have around her that clearly states _mine, assholes,_ that gets my blood to a complete boil. _Is this party over yet?_ I knew I couldn't keep the jealousy away for long, especially not when she's parading her sexy little body around for all to see. All I want to do is wrap her in a towel from head to toe and hide her away inside so no one else can get a glimpse of her. Then finish her off with some duct tape, and maybe another towel. _Why does she have to look so damn hot?_

It's not until she squeezes my hand that I realize how tightly I'm gripping her around her waist as I try to formulate bikini-gate. "Let's get a drink." She smiles, sensing my growing agitation after several more minutes of mundane one-sided conversations with these people. A small crowd has formed around us as they fake their way in hopes of a few minutes of our time, but she tugs on my hand leading us through the group of people towards the poolside bar effectively dismissing all of them without a second thought. I try not to laugh at her innocence and naivety, unaware of her social faux-pas as she tows me along without so much as an 'excuse us' as we walk away, oblivious to their gawps of 'how dare she'.

She goes to grab two lounge chairs by the pool as I order our drinks, but I am still unable to stop my scowl at the intruding gazes of the pubescent boys eyeing her as if they stand a fucking chance while she sits and waits alone. Get real losers. They're practically salivating on her those sick fucks, imagining her soft tits in their grubby hands. _They're mine!_

"So these are the parties the rich kids throw." She teases once I've returned with our drinks. Lounging back, she pulls on her sunglasses, stretching out those long legs that have gotten a bit more color since this morning. Taking my own indulgent moment to trail a crude glance up and down her body nostalgically, I sigh as I replay our bathroom romp in my head - mesmerized by the way she wrapped herself around me completely naked, sweaty, and for my eyes only. _Control, Grey. Control. _"Mia was right – those girls hate me." She gulps, before giving a nervous laugh. This surprises me.

I huff in annoyance. "It doesn't bother you? It bothers me."

Shrugging noncommittally, "they're just being petty. They're all so pretty and beautiful and have everything they ever wanted. They have no reason to be so mean. Maybe boredom."

"Or jealousy. You are quite wise for your age, you know that? I can't believe you're the same age as them."

"I'm an old soul." She replies softly, eyes cast downwards contemplative for a moment. "I didn't grow up with money or having everything I ever wanted. And no one ever paid attention to me, at least not for the right reasons. I never got the _chance_ to be a mean girl." I notice the wistfulness and longing in her voice, an odd thing considering our conversation. Where is this coming from? Who _wants_ to be mean?

"You never would've been one anyways. You're nothing like those girls – trifling about their first-world problems as if they have real-life issues." I scoff at the idea. "You don't have a mean bone in your body, except when I'm inside of you. Then all bets go out the window." I wink for good measure.

"Mr. Grey, you've already gotten into my panties once today. You might've just earned yourself another."

I smile at her attempt to distract me, but instead of letting the subject go just yet I give her hand a gentle squeeze, serious for a moment. "Hey, I mean it. You're such a diamond in the rough, so precious you don't even realize it. Despite being surrounded by their juvenile hostilities you defend their atrocious manners as if they deserve protecting. If only everyone could be as kind as you." I can't keep the admiration out of my gruff voice.

Her shy smile and shrug is all she can manage. Her goodness and the pureness of her heart makes me certain she would never be one of those girls, despite this peculiar wanting in her voice to be just that. Regardless of her humble upbringing and the fact that she may not have had everything growing up like the majority of people here at this party, I make a silent declaration to treat her like the princess she deserves to be treated as, certain the other girls will weep when they realize that I'm not going to mess around on her. She may not see herself in the same class as them, but that's only because she can't appreciate the fact that she's in one of her own, above and beyond the rest of them. I just want to spoil her, share all that I have and take her to places she never thought possible.

I'm giddy by the thought of the endless possibilities I'm fortunate enough to have to shower Ana with all the trimmings that come with being my girlfriend; my first and only girlfriend. And then one day she'll be _more_ than just my girlfriend and the thought of sharing my life with her creates a startling stirring deep within me.

_What the hell?_

Immediately I swallow the uncomfortable thought taking a large swig of beer to quench the papery dryness in my throat, then another. Where did _that_ thought come from? I've only just gotten her to agree to be my girlfriend, but already I'm jumping the gun once more. Risking a nervous glance her way, I try to convince myself that it must be the sex and the heat that's concocted a type of sex magic making my thoughts jerk erratically in my head. My cheeks redden as I look at her, oblivious to the waywardness of the musings in my head as she remains relaxed and untroubled next to me, basking in the sweltering temperatures. Her skin smells like pina colodas – creamy coconuts and juicy pineapples – from the sunblock I so graciously offered to slather on every visible inch of her buttery soft skin, briefly wondering if she would taste as sweet as she smells.

_Fuck. _I give a sharp shake of my head in a vain attempt to get my mind back on track. These kinds of thoughts are dangerous. You've been back together two fucking seconds and already you're unable to keep your mind and dick off of her.

_Would it really be so bad to already be thinking of _more_…?_

_… I am so fucked._

* * *

The lazy day carries on as we lie in the sun, the heat and burning rays of summer igniting our skin and painting us a summery hue. The music continues to thump and vibrate deep in my chest, our drinks permanently refreshed with ice cold new ones. I wonder why I don't do this type of thing more often; perhaps Ana would like to take a vacation with me and we can lie on the beach doing exactly this, without the leering eyes of small-dick boys next time. I'm sure I could find a private beach to go to so we can laze around in peace just the two of us. _Hmm, yes, that sounds nice._

Here and there Ana reaches over and intertwines her fingers with mine making sure I'm still there, and I'm completely besotted by this gesture. _How sweet is she?_ She remains innocuous to the whisperings and gapings from others, but of course I'm unable to look past it. It grates on my every nerve I'm surprised I haven't flipped a table yet or lashed out at these inane fuckers drooling over what's mine. I just know they're fantasizing about fucking her and I want to scream at them or break their goddamn necks.

_Gahh!_

Of course she doesn't realize just how fucking beautiful she is; but these drunks certainly see it. I see it. The whole fucking universe sees it but her. How is it possible she doesn't see it?

Once again my thoughts drift back to the naughty things I have planned for the two of us once we're alone, me and this beautiful girl, and it marginally helps to ease my homicidal urges. Their tiny dicks would never be able to satisfy her like I can, and I take some comfort in that uncharitable, albeit true, thought. Yes, as long as I keep in the back of my mind the fact that I'll be the one going home with her tonight, filling her sweet little body with all of me, I can maybe get through this party without killing someone.

Her fingers soothingly draw up and down my arm, easing the tensions from my body as if she knows I need it, making me lose track of time. The sun continually gets hotter; I'm near comatose in my relaxed state. The mixture of sun, alcohol and Ana is the perfect combination as I roll my neck from side to the side, wondering how long we've been lying here, unmoving and doing nothing. It's not until I feel a shadow blocking the sun that I squint up to see who it is.

"Christian fucking Grey." The loud voice booms as Ana sits up startled.

I groan. Elliot.

* * *

**(APOV)**

I'm jolted out of my sun-induced stupor as I look up to find a bronzed hunk all blonde hair and blue eyes grinning down at me. Of course I don't know who he is but Christian certainly does. Hesitantly looking over at Christian, I'm not surprised to see him glaring irritably at this man.

After this morning I was finally able to quell the suffocating anxiety that had set up residence in the pit of my stomach earlier as Mia introduced me to her friends. There was no denying I had entered enemy territory – I was terribly intimidated by all of their lingering gawps thrown my way as everyone whispered that not only was Christian Grey here, but that he had actually brought someone with him. My presence had clearly crushed a few socialite hearts by showing up with him, and there was no shortage of scowls and hostile looks meant for me.

I desperately tried to appear indifferent, amused even whenever one of those girls would deliberately flirt with Christian in front of me as if it didn't matter that I was even there. I tried to hide my embarrassment as best as I could as they all confidently strutted around as if they knew they all had something better to offer him, completely dismissive of my presence. Christian being Christian however kept not only a possessive eye on me, but an equally possessive arm around me staking his claim. It only helped marginally, as I was fraught with not allowing these girls to get to me. They didn't know me, and I didn't know them. I had just wanted to come and have fun today; spend time with Christian and make up for lost time this past week. Mia was wonderful and sweet, if not a little overwhelming, but she did her best to introduce me to everyone as if I were someone important. As politely as I could I did my best to appear the ever gracious guest, despite my lingering bruised ego as the minute I turned my back I knew the others were whispering about me.

Admittedly our time spent in the bathroom was the perfect remedy. It was distracting enough to make me forget some of my uneasy feelings twirling around inside of me, knowing Christian did in fact want _me _and not those other girls. I'm only slightly embarrassed at how eager and demanding I was once we were alone, but I think he liked it. He certainly didn't complain about it, I grin to myself.

Now that we've both sated our raging urges, the rest of the afternoon has gone much better despite Christian's Fan Club consisting of tarts and other mean-spirited names I want to give them. No longer tense and awkward in each others' presence, the nerves no longer painstakingly percolating just below the surface, the last few hours have become a sunny blissful state of relaxation until this hunk of a man appeared. And knowing Christian's… more possessive tendencies, I'm morbidly curious to see how he'll handle himself.

"Elliot, I'd like you to meet Anastasia. Ana, my brother Elliot." _Oh. _The man grins wickedly at me taking my hand and placing a slow, seductive kiss on it, his eyes never leaving mine. He continues to plant a trail of kisses up my arm, his eyes now trained on the disgruntled angry man next to me – Jealous Christian in all his raging glory.

"Ana, a _pleasure_ to meet you." He winks lewdly, a nervous laugh tripping from my lips. "Little Bro," He claps him on the shoulder. "Didn't think you'd actually show, let alone bring someone as beautiful as this. What on earth, may I ask, is a pretty little thing like you doing with this fucker?" He takes a seat on my lounge chair next to me and stretches an arm behind, encasing my legs between him. It's almost comical at how upset Christian's getting, but he keeps his temper _just_ _barely_ under control. I fear his head will pop off any moment, and the image is both amusing and a very real possibility.

"Nice to meet you too, Elliot." I smile politely.

"Seriously though, how the hell did my brother get a girl like you? Did he pay you?" He whispers conspiratorially. "No way someone as hot as you would be seen with this schmuck."

I try not to giggle even as I feel the tension radiating off of Christian in heaps. "We met a few weeks ago. Your darling brother came up to me in a bar, actually."

Elliot's mouth gapes open. "A bar? _Darling?_"

I nod. "Yes, he was a bumbling fool if I recall." I grin. Christian narrows his eyes at me, and Elliot stares at me enchantingly. I find myself wanting to tease this out, the childlike awe in Elliot's baby blues as he hangs on my every word too much fun to pass on. Not only that, once again I'm morbidly curious to see how far I can push Christian, rile him up a little until he breaks this frosty exterior. He's too tense, unjustly so, and I'll use whatever bait I can to get back the Christian I had not five minutes ago.

_"Bumbling fool?" _He smirks in amusement.

I nod. "He kept trying to take me home, something about my safety." I roll my eyes.

"Did you let him?"

I shrug. "Yeah, he pretty much just followed me home. I only lived a few blocks away."

"Did you kiss him after? Give him your number? What happened after he _stalked_ you?"

"Nothing. That was kind of it."

Elliot is eating this up, a shit-stirring grin on his lips. "Christian Grey striking out? You must be the first girl to ever turn this man down. The _only_ person to turn this man down. That was pretty ballsy of you, Christian Grey always gets what he wants, right Bro? You're a feisty little thing." He says smiling at me. "And then what?"

_We had sex in his office._

Well, _I_ had sex.

"My friend was supposed to interview him last Monday, but she got sick so I went instead. He was practically drooling when I walked through the door." I tease, and Christian just shakes his head fighting off a smile. Seems to be working after all.

"Did you have sex in his office?" I'm momentarily appalled and I wonder if I had said my earlier thoughts out loud. _Did I? _Elliot looks at me eagerly, eyebrows raised and that charming grin plastered across his face.

"Mmm…" I pretend to mull it over. "More or less." I blurt, and Elliot lets out a howl of laughter, a full on busting-out-your-sides kind of laugh. _I can't believe I just said that!_

"Ana!" Christian scolds, though I see the twitch of his lips as he tries to hide his amused grin. He knows exactly what happened in that office.

Elliot continues to bark with laughter as he tries to compose himself. His teasing smirk to his brother is enough to get a full on smile from Christian and I let out a wary smile myself. The ice has broken around him, and he's back to his earlier relaxed self. "You. I like. You definitely get my approval." Elliot manages to spit out just as Mia comes over to mess up Elliot's hair.

"Oh yes, now the gang's all here." Christian chirps sardonically.

"Ana, are these goons behaving themselves?" She asks her hands firmly planted on her hips.

Elliot sneers as he nods towards me and Christian. "I am, more so than these two."

I'm met by all three pairs of Grey eyes looking back at me - green, blue, and wonderfully grey. Despite their non-blood lifelines, they all share the same confident air, the same unintentionally intimidating demeanor about them that you would think they were truly related. I gulp nervously. It's obvious how much they all ooze beauty, wealth and power, and I wonder what on earth am I doing mixed in with them? I'm 0-3 in that regard.

They all break out into laughter, Christian included, after a beat. I let out an uneasy laugh of my own, and Christian reaches over to give my hand a squeeze.

"How about we leave Ana alone now, huh? Let's go for a walk." He starts to stand before Mia halts him with her glare.

"You are not leaving this party Christian Grey!" She scolds, dwarfed by her two older brothers, though no less threatening.

"I was just going to take Ana down to the water, relax _mom_."

She smirks as she crosses her arms over her chest. "Don't be long. We're setting up a game on the beach in a bit. You guys have to play."

Christian grumbles out a response as he takes my hand. I'm excited to watch Christian play, no doubt sports being yet another thing he excels at. Of course he appears less than thrilled, but the more distance we put between us and the house the more his grumpiness begins to wane.

* * *

We're quiet as we walk along the sandy shores, fingers intertwined as the soft pebbly sand slides between our toes. Surrounded by the lulling sounds of the water splashing at our feet, it's an intimate moment between us, a nice reprieve from the chaos back at the house. I've never had a boyfriend before; but I always imagined it would be like this. He looks so young and carefree next to me, a beautiful man who, for whatever reason, _wants_ _me_.

Christian says he has issues, a darkness about him that he wants to protect me from, but I don't care. Everyone has their baggage, including me.

_Especially me_.

I've never felt such a strong connection, a strong pull, to another person before and I'm afraid of how fast everything is happening. Is this how it is for everyone? To have this critical _need_ to be with someone, a terrifying exhilaration constantly pulsing in your veins whenever you're near them? We've only known each other a short time, and I'm wholly aware of that, but how long does it take before your heart realizes it knows what it wants? And that that want is standing right in front of you?

I realize I'm squeezing his fingers, caught up in my own thoughts. He looks over to me with his shy smile, squeezing my fingers back. It's obvious we both have a lot on our minds, but he doesn't push me for answers, and I don't push him for his.

"I hope my family didn't scare you off. That's the worst of them."

I smile warmly. "No, they didn't scare me. I quite like them really. I like that you have siblings, you must have had so much fun growing up." I sigh with a twinge of jealousy.

He only shrugs. "I've never really been close with them… with anyone. Growing up the way I did…" He trails off. I give him a reassuring look, and to my surprise he continues. "Don't ever tell them, but I do enjoy having them around as annoying as they are. I guess it could be a lot worse."

"You seem close to them or at least them to you."

"You always wanted siblings, what was it like without?"

"Lonely. I think that's why I've always been a bit of a loner, but I've gotten used to it." I shrug, though it doesn't truly convey how I feel about that matter.

"But do you like it? The alone part?"

"No, I mean, yes. Both." I mumble. "I like the quiet but not all the time. I always wanted to have someone to play with, talk to, do nothing with. Ray was good at being that friend, but it's not the same, not like if I had a brother or sister. And my mom…" I shake my head. This walk turned too heavy too fast.

"You don't talk about her a lot."

"You don't talk a lot at all." I rebut.

He shoots me a sad smile. "No, I don't. But I like talking to you." Pulling me closer until his arm can comfortably wrap around me, I take an indulgent moment to snuggle into his side. His body is warm, flushed from the sun, and I can smell the mixture of sweat, sunblock and Christian and it makes my body tingle with desire. "You make it easy for me to want to talk." He finishes, planting a kiss in my hair.

We continue our stroll, walking in the shallow sand where the water laps up at our ankles as we circle back to the house. The party is in full swing, loud chatter and blaring music fueling the atmosphere. The house seems to have taken on a second life, more crowded than it was when we got there. A net has been set up and a few chairs brought down to the sandy patch at the bottom of the house, while a cooler full of beers is already parked in the sand as Christian goes to grab one for each of us.

"Bro! Let's play!" Before I even have time to respond Christian is already catching the volleyball heading towards me. "You too Ana!" I try to politely decline but Mia is already pulling me towards her and it looks like it'll be the typical guys versus girls. I groan at the thought; sports were never my forte.

Luckily for the few drinks I've had, most recently the beer currently in my grasp, and the copious amounts of sun I've accrued over the past several hours, I'm more amenable than I normally would be. I begrudgingly agree as I've already come to realize Mia most likely wouldn't have backed down even if I did put up more of a fight. She's relentless like her brother.

As the game of volleyball starts, I'm quickly distracted and unable to concentrate on what is going on. I watch in keen interest as Christian flexes and stretches each time he goes for the ball that I don't realize whenever the ball makes its way over to me. I don't care. _He's too sexy _and it makes me dizzy_. _At least I think it's him that's making me dizzy; the sun has just kissed his skin, sweat beads rolling down his muscles. His hair is floppy and damp and I imagine him the same way when we have sex. Make love. Fuck.

_Like in bathrooms._

I do manage to hit a few balls over the net, but neither myself, Mia or the other girls on our team are any good at this. I blame it on the chiseled chests staring back at us across the net. It's just not fair. In the end, the game predictably goes to the boys. We didn't stand a chance.

At the end of the game, I can't help but smile as Christian leans on the net, his hands braced at the top. He rewards me with his boyish lopsided grin as I concede defeat to him. Pulling on the net, I lean in and give him a congratulatory kiss, blushing as I feel eyes all around us. But I don't care; his soft lips more than makes up for it.

Our tender moment is short-lived, and I'm none too impressed as Christian quickly slides under the net and, grinning roguishly, picks me up in one swoop and tosses me carelessly onto his shoulder. A resounding smack on my bottom makes my cheeks burn red, more so when I realize how turned on I am. That delicious smack combined with my lusting over him makes me nervous that one touch and I'll be done.

"Don't you dare Christian Grey!" I squeal as we bounce towards the water and he tells me he's claiming his prize. My pleas fall on deaf ears and suddenly I'm airborne before splashing into the water.

Chivalrously he pulls me up out quickly with the most adorable boyish smile on his face I'm helpless against his charm as I wipe the water from my face. Playful and without a care in the world at this very moment, I feel my heart swoon that this man is all mine. That he _wants_ to be mine, and that he doesn't care who sees it_. _As if on cue, he reads my body well as I wrap my arms and legs around him, sharing secret smiles before I make a spectacle of kissing him as if no one else is around. The water keeps our grinding hips hidden, but the wolf whistles and cat-calls from around us just barely keeps my wanton need for this man under control while his fingertips dig into my flesh.

"Jesus Christian!" I hear Elliot whoop in glee and I'm brought back to reality. We pull apart and I put a bit of distance between me and Christian to cool our rampant hormones as I splash him impishly to keep him from closing the space between us again.

"_There's_ your prize."

* * *

We stay in the water long after the game has finished, Mia coming out to chat with me. I'm delighted to talk with her, much to my surprise. I'm not a social person; I'm much too shy and awkward, but Mia is so easy to talk to. She never stops talking, and in another world I don't think we would have ever been friends coming from two different worlds, but I don't think I'd mind if we were in this one. She talks about her recent trip to Paris – of course all expenses paid for by Christian as she studied at a few culinary institutes over the past three months. She had private sessions with some of the top chefs and I see that same passion she has for cooking that Christian has for business. She asks me about graduation, what I plan on doing now that I've finished, and about living with Kate. I don't have to force conversation with her as she seems genuinely interested in me, a novelty that I would hit it off so easily with someone as pretty and smart as Mia. Always having been in the opposite social circles as some like Mia Grey, I try my best to consolidate the fact that indeed this is really happening. I try to deny that troubled part of me that wonders when the ruse will be over and I'll become yet another spectacle for cruel and taunting eyes, much like the rest of my life. However it's her warmth and inviting demeanor that makes me want to give her the benefit of the doubt, if for no other reason than she's Christian's sister and I believe they're cut from the same cloth. He's a good man, so by extension, I hope she's as good as he is.

I keep an eye on Christian who stands in the water nearby, talking with Elliot and his friends. I know he says he's not close with either of his siblings, but when I see them together I see the opposite. I wonder if that's another one of Christian's issues. He seems to think that he's just as alone as I was growing up, but he has so many people around him. They trade hearty laughs and I can only imagine what has put that beautiful smile on his face, but I don't interrupt them. They no doubt are probably sharing some crude tales from their past and I'm undecided whether or not I want to be privy to them.

Despite the water cooling my body, the sun continues to rain down on us and I'm beginning to feel a touch dizzy from all the heat once again. I don't need to wait long before Christian senses my discomfort and winks towards me. He treads towards me, tugging on my hand to walk back towards the shore with him, kissing my too-hot forehead. He tickles my side playfully, sneaky fingers poking at my flushed skin. I go to pull away but he refuses to let go of my hand, instead tugging me back towards him until his lips find mine once more.

"Christian!" I squeal as he pulls me back, hard enough that we both stumble just as we reach the shallower waters. "Stop!" He grins wrapping his arms around me as we head back up to the house, claiming one of the covered cabanas –welcomed shade under the white drapes hanging above the crisp white beds.

One of the waiters promptly arrives with a tray of beverages, and just as I go to grab one of the fruity colorful cocktails, Christian swiftly takes it out of my hand and replaces it with a tall glass of ice tea. I drink it in a few un-ladylike gulps, before going to grab another to quench my sudden thirst. Good thinking on his part.

Once I've satisfied my dehydration, I crawl onto the bed earning myself another resounding slap on the ass as Christian smirks with approval.

"You can't wave that thing in my face like that." He purrs before joining me. The gentle stinging on my bottom lingers as I try to rub it away, Christian's eyes dancing wickedly as he watches in keen interest. "Would you like some help with that _relief?_"

"I really like Mia." I blurt, and all thoughts of sex are gone at the mention of his sister. He scowls. I smile, but continue, "She really is like a dark-haired version of Kate. But nicer; she's so sweet. She's asked me to lunch next week."

"Did she?"

"Yes, you don't mind do you?"

"Why would I? Just be warned: you may think she's this way because she's drunk, but she's just as talkative when she's sober. She literally _never_ stops. Don't be afraid to tell her to breathe once in a while, or that you're tired of listening to her. She's nice, but her power to annoy someone to death is uncanny."

I smile at how fondly he talks about her. They definitely share a closeness only they can - their own exclusive back and forth banter, and it stirs something inside of me to see this softer side of him. It's obvious he holds Mia under a special light, propped on some pedestal for him to dote on. He just melts when she's around, eager to please her and to give in to any and all of her demands. This deity of a man, brought back down to earth by his baby sister.

Lying on my side, I face him as we tangle our fingers together. We share soft and tender kisses, short and sweet and just long enough to create delicious tingles inside of me from head to toe. This has been the most perfect day, a fitting homecoming and start to our relationship. The shade provides a much welcomed reprieve from the sun, and I note the delicious summer coloring of Christian's face and chest. I can't help but look around and wonder what life would have been like if this were the life I had. This is more of Kate's life – the fancy parties, tons of friends, gorgeous unattainable men drooling at her feet. I'm glad I have Christian at this party or I would have been that awkward girl in the corner avoiding everyone. Instead, here I am with The Christian Grey, star pupil of the party. I smile as I see Elliot make his way towards us, and laugh when Christian curses loud enough for him to hear.

"Surprised you're still here Little Bro." He teases, lying on the cabana bed next to us. "I'm glad that you're still here though." He says playfully to me and I chuckle back.

"Back off." Christian warns, though I'm happy to hear the teasing in his voice. I don't understand what Christian has to be jealous of anyways – has he met himself? He's the master of his own universe, what does he have to be insecure about?

"Listen, if any of your hot friends are looking to date another Grey…" He wriggles his eyebrows at me, "Please feel free to refer them to me. I'd be more than happy to show them why the Grey name is so coveted. My baby brother here is an amateur when it comes to women, let me tell you. Unfortunately he was unwilling to learn from the best, yours truly. So if ever you get bored or need some time with a real man for reference…" He trails off, smug and arrogant in an unusually charming way. I chance a glance at Christian who stares back at him with his own haughty smirk, eyes narrowed in caution. _If he only knew._

"Thank you, but I most definitely won't be taking you up on that offer. Believe me. There's nothing _amateur_ about your little brother here. Not an inch." I wink back, much to Christian's amusement.

Elliot just takes it in stride, a loud boisterous laugh bubbling out of him. We continue to talk for some time, and I can't stop the smile that has found a permanent place on my lips. Christian and Elliot shoot back and forth embarrassing childhood stories of each other after asking what it was like growing up with each other, and an occasional Mia story thrown in for good measures. They've been all over the world for family vacations, always doing something as a family, and pangs of jealousy pop up every now and then when I think about my own childhood. I may have seen a few different places, but they were never vacations; only my mom and me, and some loser of the week.

Even though they can't all get away for vacations like they used to except during Christmas and New Year's, Elliot, Christian and their dad continue to have an annual fishing trip at the end of August – a tradition they used to do as a good-bye to summer before school started when they were kids. I love that despite being this successful CEO of his own billion-dollar company, Christian still goes away on these homey fishing trips where they stay in this tiny cabin his parents had bought when they first married, where Christian and Elliot still share a tiny room. Despite a few minor touch-ups, it remains as authentic and cozy as it was the first time they went there.

My favorite story is when Elliot tells me about Christian's adorable fathering of Mia when she was first brought home and I melt inside. Most stories about Mia seem to always have something to do with Christian, and I can't hide my adoring smile when I hear about the two of them. "Mia was like his doll. He would carry her around everywhere, and no one was allowed to play with her unless Christian said so. It's no wonder she turned out the way she did, she's been nothing but spoiled her entire life." Elliot chuckles fondly. "Seriously Bro, you're all to blame for that one."

Christian grumbles lightheartedly, and I curl up in his arms. We talk for hours, eating, drinking and sharing stories. As it gets later and the temperature slowly drops a few degrees, Christian runs inside to grab my cover-up and returns with a blanket as well. He and Elliot share a look as he drapes it around me and kisses my forehead, but neither say anything. I realize how tired I am, and Christian is quick to notice.

"Ready to go, babe?" He asks into my hair, and I'm all too aware of Elliot's encroaching stare. I imagine what a shock this all must be for Elliot, to see this side of Christian. I feel honored to be the only one privy to this side of him, though I'm happy to share it with those closest to Christian. I nod my head shyly, feeling like I should be partying till the wee hours of the morning rather than going to bed. The party is still going strong with loud music and excess booze flowing, everyone much more relaxed if that was even possible, but I'm ready to head home and have some alone time with Christian. We've only just gotten back together, and I'm eager and selfish to get him all to myself.

We say goodbye to Elliot and Mia, and Mia gushes excitedly that Christian had stayed. "You have no idea how much it means to me you came!" She clings onto his arm as he smiles broadly at her. "Thank you both for coming. It was so nice to meet you." She lets go just long enough to engulf me in her arms. "I can't wait for lunch next week, and you have to come to family dinner next weekend. Oh, come tomorrow night! We have it every Sunday." Her excitement is endearing, but I look towards Christian for approval. I don't want to overwhelm our still infantile relationship as it's barely been 24 hours.

"Mia, we'll discuss it. You threw a wonderful party. Mom would be impressed."

"Really?" She asks animatedly.

"Yes, you did good Mimi." He says softly, and I am barely able to catch it. My heart simpers in my chest at the sight of them; he doesn't realize what a sweetheart he really is.

Walking hand-in-hand back to his car, I can't help but gaze dreamily up at him. I bite my lip, unable to hide my happiness.

"Thank you for inviting me today." I say softly, our hands swinging between us. "And thank you… for being you. I had a wonderful time."

He looks down at me, a hint of surprise in his beautiful grey eyes. "Really?"

"Yes." I say undoubtedly. "Any time spent with you makes me happy."

He smiles shyly back at me, and that look is enough to undo me. Once we're inside the car, I lean over and greedily kiss his lips, my desire overflowing no longer able to be contained. My hands are eagerly running through his hair, down his neck and his muscled arms, until I reach his finger tips and direct his hands to my breasts. I groan as he crudely squeezes them, and I'm desperate to get closer to him.

"Ana… we… can't…" He says in between kisses as I hear a car honk behind us. I gasp when I realize we're still on the driveway at the front of the valet line. Smarting myself back into my seat, I pull on my seatbelt before Christian starts the car and pulls out of the driveway, a sexy smirk on his lips. _Dear god, control yourself._

"You make me happy too." He says softly, before bringing my hand up to his lips and placing a tender kiss on my knuckles as we drive back home.

* * *

**A/N:** Thank you for all the reviews/favorites/follows! They're greatly appreciated! Come find me on Facebook, Pinterest and Tumblr :)

Notes**: **

Yes, he used a condom in the last chapter.

When googling nicknames for Mia the most common was _Mimi_. And I honestly couldn't remember if I read Christian calling Mia _Mimi_ in the books or another FF story (I vaguely remember reading it), so not to step on any toes I apologize if anyone gets offended I've used it. Credit goes to whoever used it before me.


	21. Some More Truths

**CHAPTER 21 – SOME MORE TRUTHS**

_Please excuse me, I'm not thinking clear_  
_It must just be stress_  
_But I likely shouldn't be here, I'm such a mess_

_I never really ever know what to say_  
_When all of my emotions get in the way_  
_I'm just trying to get us on the same page (wish I could explain)_

_I always get it better right afterward_  
_When all the wrong impressions are said and heard_  
_How come I can never get the right words, I need to convey_  
_Wish I could explain_  
_The things that I have to work out_

_-The Listening (Lights)-_

* * *

**(CPOV)**

The moment we get back to her apartment we didn't make it farther than two feet inside before her bikini hit the floor. Unable to be bothered by trivial details such as turning on the lights or moving to a more comfortable spot, we groped around in the dark falling onto a nearby couch, pillows and blankets be damned as they went flying to the floor in a haphazard mess.

Her flushed skin, her wet kisses, the way her voice carried throughout the empty apartment left me aching for her. How is it possible for my body to _need_ her this desperately?

It's not long before we're both panting for breath, giving the word _quickie _a whole new meaning. We stare back at each other, eyes wide in disbelief and neither one of us coherent as we break out into a fit of laughter no doubt that being a world record for quickest orgasms ever. And yet I feel completely and wholly sated by this woman.

I pepper her face with kisses expressing my joy that she has chosen me to be the lucky bastard that gets to take her home at night. Her bright blue eyes shine in the dark as she stands stark nude, her hand outstretched towards me beautiful in all her natural glory. She's such an intoxicating combination of demure and sultry. I can already feel my dick stirring awake once more as I grip her petite hand while she leads me to her bedroom, unspoken promises of what's to come.

* * *

By the time we actually manage to get back to her room, I can't help but chuckle as I watch her rummage through her drawers. Completely naked, she _hmms_ and _ahhs_ before finally grabbing pink cotton shorts and a matching tank top, quickly slipping them on.

"Baby, what are you wearing?"

"What does it look like?" She queries, looking down at her ensemble. I don't particularly approve.

"Only silk or lace should be touching that precious body of yours. Something sexy." I purr as I recline on her small bed. With Kate away for the weekend, she was surprised when I asked if we could stay at her place. I get the feeling she's not completely comfortable at mine so I figured we could try spending the night here. It's definitely different from what I'm accustomed to, her room being the size of my pantry or a closet by my standards. It's an interesting combination of industrial bachelor pad/loft with the exposed white brick walls, ceiling beams and tall ceilings, and hardwood floors. But with Ana's feminine touch of purple, cream and off-white accents – bedspread, whitewashed end tables, flowers and dangling lamps is what makes it very much her. Warm and inviting, despite the bareness of the structure of the room.

In light of all of that, though it may not be my style or as luxurious as Escala, when I see her smiling face I really don't care about anything else. Hell, we could be sleeping in a cardboard box for all I care and I'd make sure to cover her so she wouldn't get cold, and draw a picture on the wall if it would make her happy.

She blushes and shoots me a dirty look. "I like these, they're comfortable. And _cute._" She defends. I shake my head. They're pink, cotton, and _blah. _Not soft enough for her delicate skin, and definitely not up to par for appropriate bedroom attire for her. Fuck, she should just sleep naked. Problem solved.

"Mmm, I much prefer the feel of you under silk. Or nothing else but skin." I say as she climbs on the bed and straddles my thighs. I scrunch up my nose and she giggles as she tugs on her tank top. I'll have to figure out a way to smuggle some silkier ensembles into her closet next time I'm here.

"You've gotten quite a bit of color in you today." I noticed while she changed. I found her tan lines surprisingly sexy; I would have thought I wouldn't have liked any kind of marring to her creamy skin, but the lines just remind me of our wonderful day together. My hands move on their own accord, greedily roaming her body as she pulls her hair up and out of her face. Her shirt lifts delightfully, and I'm rewarded with a glimpse of her golden tanned stomach only to find a scar mark on her hip I hadn't noticed before. The white scar, normally hidden against her creamy flesh now stands out clearly visible - jarring and too distinct for me to look away. Tracing it over with my thumb, she looks down to see what's gotten my attention. Her face pales for a moment before she recovers.

"Ready for bed? Sorry my bed's a little small." She cringes sheepishly.

"It's fine." I wave off the thought. "But this…" I bring her attention back to the scar. "What happened?"

She doesn't look at me as she climbs off my lap and slides underneath the covers. She pats the spot next to her, and I follow, keeping my gaze on her so she can't dismiss the question.

"It's nothing. It was a while ago, a piece of glass hit me." She shrugs, though her eyes dart apprehensively.

She's a terrible liar; her face an open book. Though I would normally find the inability to hide emotions a weakness, especially in my world and in business, in her it's just another one of her many endearing traits. It also means I'll always be able to tell when she's lying to me, something I'll have to closely observe just to be sure I don't miss it. "It doesn't look like nothing. It must have been something if it could leave a scar."

"Christian!" She says in exasperation, her usual patience quickly snapping. "It's just a stupid scar; I don't even remember it's there. It's not a big deal. People get scars all the time!"

Her hands fly to her mouth, eyes wide in mortification as the weight of her words dawns on her once she's heard them. I wince, hoping she doesn't go where I think she'll go.

She does.

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean… mine's not like… yours are…" Those big innocent eyes begin to water on command, that adorable lip quivering helplessly. Her grip on her mouth tightens as she stares back at me with those wide open eyes, shaking her head scornfully at herself. She's too sensitive for her own good as her face pales, shame coloring her face.

I want to comfort her, at least let her know I'm not upset by what she said, but I'm at a loss at what to say or do. I don't expect anyone to ever be able to understand my scars – what they've meant to me, or how they've defined my life. But I know I have to say _something_, or she'll carry this unwarranted guilt around with her for god knows how long.

"Oh I'm _so_ sorry!" She sobs wrapping her arms around me. "I'm such an idiot!"

I admonish her gently. "Hey, don't say that. It's okay, don't worry about it."

She shakes her head vehemently in the uncomfortable silence, neither one of us certain of where to go from here. I want to ask about her scar, but then I know she'll ask about mine. And I'm not yet ready to tell her all of that… yet. It's still too soon, and it will only scare her away.

_2. Talk to her._

My body jerks as the thought pops into my head, startling me. I do a double-take around the room as I hear Flynn's voice calm and patient, a murmur in the darkness around me. The need to physically sweep my eyes around the room to ensure he's not actually here in the room is ludicrous, but the crisp clear vibrato of his accent rings in my head I have a hard time believing he's not here whispering it to me. The simplicity of those words seem so easy, the perfect solution to this mess we've gotten ourselves into. _Talk to her. _But as I look back down at this beautiful weeping girl in my arms, hesitantly trying to string together words to make this all go away, I fumble for what to say. _What do I talk to her about? How the fuck am I supposed to explain – Detroit, the pimp, my dead mother. _She's upset enough as it is, my life is hardly the bedtime story she's wanting to hear to make things better.

_2. Talk to her._

_Talk. To. Her. _

_Talk to her._

Sharply turning my gaze away from her, I stare out the window contemplative of what to do. I _know_ I need to, but being the one to open up those firmly secured gates to my past which have remained closed for as long as I can remember creates a pit of anxiety and unease in me. I've never told anyone about my life pre-Greys except for Flynn, and before then I was mute. I never talked to my parents about it, the doctors or nurses, or the therapists before Flynn. To have to re-live that nightmare, to use my own voice to detail that horrid tale makes me want to never speak again and revert to silence like I did before. Speaking to that time in my life almost feels as if I'm verifying it, giving it credit, validating that it really did happen. And in some ways, knowing that I've only ever discussed this with one other person keeps me in an ignorant bubble of denial that maybe, _just maybe,_ it was all a bad dream. One that never truly happened, only something sickly twisted and conjured up in my fucked up little mind.

As the moments of the night continue to tick by, I watch her fretfully try to muster out an articulate apology. If the topic hadn't been so serious I would find her mumbling cute, but I don't want to offend her. I know she's bothered by her blunder, and I know that she's going to blame herself more than she needs to. She would never willingly try to hurt me of that I'm sure, but in the midst of defending herself she inadvertently dealt me a blow. But I honestly don't care; she hadn't meant it.

"That was a terrible thing for me to say." She finally manages, sitting up in bed, back against the headboard. Twisting her fingers in her lap she frowns as she falls deep into thought, choosing her words carefully. "It's just, it was one time and it happened quickly, and at that point it wasn't even the worst thing I've ever been through. In that respect, it was minor to me. It's just a little scar."

"I don't understand." I shake my head.

Sighing heavily, she reaches over for my hand and I willingly give in to her touch. A part of me is thrilled that she needs me for comfort and I want to give that to her. Sometimes I feel like I crave her touch so badly in order to calm myself, I don't realize she may feel the same way.

"The scar," she pauses, eyes angry. "It was from my mom's third husband. He was… he is… he's a terrible human being, there's no other way to put it." She huffs. "He was an awful person; they fought all the time and I hated living with them. He was not a nice man. I didn't like the way he treated us. He would always yell and drink and made me feel so uncomfortable."

The thought that someone could do anything to mistreat Ana makes me furious. My blood boils, my anger quickly rising. "What did he do?" I grit, my hand tightly clenching the side of the bed as I fear where this story is headed. I don't know how I'll take the news if she tells me he did something to her.

"He never tried anything, not like how you're thinking, but I always felt he stared at me a little too long. He stood too close and made inappropriate comments that you shouldn't be making to 16 year old girls when you're alone with them. And with all the fighting – it was _all_ the time, I couldn't handle it. A lot of things have happened between me and my mom and this marriage came after a really bad time in my life and I couldn't take it anymore. I couldn't keep living with her or in that kind of environment." She swallows nervously, eyes darting about but not once landing on me. "I hated him, Christian. I try not to hate people, to not carry those kinds of feelings around, but I hated him." She whispers. Kissing the side of her head, I give her a gentle squeeze letting her know that I'm here and that it's okay. Feeling hate is one of the milder things I feel, I think somberly.

"I kept saying that I was going to live with Ray, I spent most of my time with him anyways and that's where I considered my real home, but _he_ kept getting into my mom's ear and saying that Ray was just 'another man' and that I shouldn't be living with him. He was always making awful comments about Ray, and I had my suspicions for why _he_ wanted to keep me around and it makes me sick. One night we had gotten into a particularly nasty fight. He was drinking like always, and at one point I must have said something because the next thing I know he's chucking his glass of scotch towards my head." She shudders. "His aim was terrible, but it hit the wall behind me nonetheless and glass fell everywhere thus the scar. Glass hit me, but luckily that was the only piece that left a mark. After that night, I moved in with Ray permanently, told him I never wanted to speak to my mom again and that was that. We didn't speak for two years until I left for college, and even to this day we barely speak. I don't think things will ever be right between us." She sighs shaking her head, an air of sorrow to those last words.

I watch her closely to see if she's leaving anything out or if there's more to this than she is letting on. When I'm satisfied that's the whole of it, this disgusting situation that ended up with my sweet girl cut, scarred, and on the outs with her own mother, I pull her into my arms and hold her. She lets me, her arms wrapped around my neck until she falls asleep, breaths soft and even. The few tears she allows to fall tug at my chest, her pain all too real for me.

_We both have scars._

Instead of letting her go, I continue to hold her. I spend most of the night awake; I've never slept in another bed before that wasn't my own, other than in hotels and I haven't been able to shut off my brain. The unfamiliar setting isn't helping and there's too much newness I'm not sure how to handle any of what's happened tonight – Ana, hanging out with my family, being in her apartment, holding her in my arms as she sleeps after confessing what must have been a difficult time for her. I hate that she has this past, this history she certainly never deserved. I only hope that was the worst of it; the idea of such darkness tainting _My Ana_ makes me livid.

I replay the conversation about her stepfather and shoot off an email to Welch to have a check done on him. I don't care that it happened a long time ago, I have to know what he's been up to and make sure he never comes back into her life. I made a promise to myself to not look into Ana's background, that we would get to know each other the old-fashion way, but this is a matter of her safety and something I will not compromise on. I need to make sure he doesn't still pose any sort of danger to her, pining after her all these years later as that's a risk I absolutely refuse to take. That fucker so much as utters her name I will kill him myself, disgusting waste of life that he is.

My mind continues to race, quietly seething in anger over this revelation. I hate that she had to go through something so ugly. I hope she doesn't carry any lingering effects from that time, but it makes me curious about the other men in her mother's life. Had there been many more husbands after that? What about boyfriends or other strange men coming into their home while Ana was still a girl growing up? Is this why she hasn't been with anyone else up until me? I hate that we have yet another thing in common on top of the scars: mothers who didn't put us first. In a sick sense it seems we were destined to find each other – two screwed up people longing for more. It's almost poetic, in a dark perverse kind of way.

* * *

I don't know what time it is when I do finally manage to doze off, but I'm woken up by screams. Loud, disgruntled, horrified screams shouting at the top of their lungs.

It's then I realize it's _me_ – my body thrashing and arms swatting at Ana as she cries begging me to calm down, and it's the most bizarre out-of-body experience I've ever felt.

"Christian! It's just me Ana! Oh god, Christian, please, it's just me!" She tries to shake me awake, her hands carefully trying to get a hold of my arms or shoulders but I can't stop. I can't stop shaking, flailing from side to side, anything to get her to _not touch me._

I can't find my voice, instead letting out grunts and whimpers and other feral noises as I continue to swipe at the air around me unable to take a proper breath.

_Please don't touch me._

_Don't fucking touch me!_

"Christian! You're just having a nightmare, please wake up! Please!"

But I am awake, and I can't stop. I can't stop my body from this excruciatingly visceral pain I feel deep in my bones, seeping into my tissues and searing my skin as I desperately try to untangle myself from her and the sheets. I want to cry the pain is so unbearable as I push her away, frantic that she'll try to touch me and I'll never be able to recover the pleasure her touch brings me when this is over.

At some point she had fallen asleep on me and I woke up to find her hands on my chest; one tucked under her cheek, the other splayed over my heart. The next set of events: the pain, the screams, pushing her off of me – remains a vivid, lurid bête noire playing in front of me as I feel my hands unable to stop their frenzied defense to keep from being touched. My hands come into contact with her body a few times: I don't know if I hit her or just graze her, but each time I feel her flesh against mine I let out a war cry as she begs and screams for me to be okay. Her lack of self-preservation as she refuses to move away only angers me more. I hear her terrified wails of sadness, beseeching me to wake up as she expresses with contrition her regrets for touching me. Jumbled with the savaged noises I make in my attempts to get away from her, my body trembles overwhelmingly.

Just before I feel as though I'm about to pass out from the pain pulsing through my every nerve, I pull myself out of the tangled mess of sheets stumbling onto my feet, hands feeling around clumsily for the walls. Dazed and confused my head spins and a terrifying feeling washes over me as I falter into her bathroom, immediately locking the door before she has a chance to catch me.

The room is dark, bar for the window acting as a dim light. Unknowing where the light switch is, I collapse onto the floor allowing the cool tiles to sooth my broiling flesh. With devout concentration I try to focus my attention on fighting my way out of this hazy hell suffocating me, vainly trying to push aside the sounds of the hissing cigarettes as they get nearer, remembering the look and feel of absolute terror after the first burn knowing what was to come. Trembling and gasping for breath lying fetally on the floor, my stomach clenches and my body wracks with dry, painful heaves. I can hear the blood whooshing in my ears, my head spinning blearily.

"CHRISTIAN!" She screams, banging on the door. "Please, are you okay? Christian? Christian!" I try to push her voice out of my head, unable to bear hearing her tortured sobs as she begs me to be okay, as if that will be enough. I know she's going out of her mind with worry, but I'm too incapacitated to even move, let alone be of any comfort to her right now. I'm so fucking embarrassed and ashamed on top of everything else; I don't know how I'll ever be able to face her again. The whole of my body is on fire, flames licking at every morsel of skin making me ache and throb and twitch wanting to rip off my own flesh. It feels as though I'm about to be thrown into an incinerator, slowly being coaxed forward, the sweet release of death on the other side a morose and putrid thought but one I welcome in this moment. "Please Christian, I'm so sorry!" She continues to sob on the other side, but I close my eyes willing her to just go away. _Please go away._

My chest constricts as I try to remember what woke me. Normally it's nightmares that cause me to wake up in such a cruel and perverse way, but I don't remember seeing boy Christian, the pimp, or my birth mother. There was no dank apartment, no strange men coming into my room. No, it was the heat from her hands literally _burning_ me awake. My entire body shudders, a sick feeling in my stomach as I crawl to the toilet and heave over and over. The idea of her touch becoming intolerable to me is too much; how could this have happened? How could I have allowed her to touch me that way?

Filing back to earlier tonight, I try to remember where I could have been so careless. And then it hits me.

She had been curled up on my chest and I hadn't wanted to let her go. My mind had been racing about her, her stepdad, and my own anxiety about telling her about my scars. I must have fallen asleep while still holding her that way, rather than adjusting her so I could hold her from behind, hands safely away from me. Her arms must've slipped from their post around my neck during her sleep.

I'm brought back by the loud banging on the door, the harsh _thud-thud-thud_ from her tiny fists.

"Christian, _please_! Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." I mumble, barely audible to myself. Standing to wash my face and mouth with cold water, I groan, ripping off my t-shirt and turning on the shower to the coldest setting. I hiss as the icy water rains down on me but the pain from the coldness is enough to distract me from thinking about anything else.

After a few tortuous minutes, I collapse back onto the floor once I've dried myself and changed back into my clothes. They're wet and damp with my sweat, but it's all I have in this bathroom. Leaning my back against the locked door, my head hits it with a thump as I close my eyes. She can't come in here. She can't see me like this.

"Christian?" She asks more softly this time, her shaky voice muffled by the door. "Please just let me know you're not hurt. What can I do? Should I call someone? I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry. _I'm so sorry_. It will never happen again, I promise. I'll never touch you again." She whimpers.

Curling my fists, I curse in my head. As much as I want to comfort her, in truth I'm terrified to be anywhere near her. My stomach hideously tightens and lurches at the thought of her touching me, and it rips at my heart for me to think of her touch as being… repulsive.

I bolt for the toilet once more and heave.

"I'm okay." I lie through the door, hoping it'll be enough. It's all I can muster without breaking down, before completely losing it all together and throwing myself out the window.

Pulling my knees up to my chest, I bury my head and feel a few tears slip down my cheeks traitorously. Overwhelmed, exhausted, and physically spent, I can't keep it in any longer. I cry on her dark bathroom floor, trembling from the after-effects of my non-nightmare. Usually after a particularly bad night I play my piano after waking up in a massive sweat, cursing and frantic, and alone. Taylor has always been on standby in case things got really bad, ensuring I didn't kill myself or anyone else in my stupefied rage. But here, with her, I'm afraid to be alone with her. Will I hurt her? Did I already hurt her? I can't even begin to describe what it is that I'm feeling other than overwrought with fleeting emotions. I'm hurt and confused. Scared. Terrified I punched or kicked her and she's on the other side suffering in pain. The kind of agony I'm feeling is immeasurable, my chest being torn in a million different directions. Do I stay or do I go? Do I scream at her or apologize? Do I comfort her or take her to the emergency room?

Why did this have to happen? Why did she have to touch me?

Maybe if I had told her sooner she would have known and taken better precautions not to breech my no-touch zones. But she knew touching me was a hard limit for me. She _knew_.

I'm angry and hurt that she would do this to me. My mind can't fathom the fact that it was an accident, everything inside of me shutting down.

_She hadn't meant to. She hadn't meant to purposely hurt you._

Shaking my head, I close my eyes and focus on my breathing. I need to figure out what to do. I need to leave, and I need some space and I need to seriously think of a way that we can still be together without this ever happening again. I could have seriously injured her if I didn't already, but even knowing this, I can't bring myself to check on her. I'm terrified of knowing the answer. What if she's bloodied and bruised on the other side of that door?

Seconds turn to minutes, minutes to hours before I finally get up off of the floor. My body is stiff from sitting in the same position all night, my head and heart heavy from what I'm about to find on the other side of the door. I still can't shake the uneasiness I feel in my body, knowing a part of that is because I'm afraid of seeing Ana hurt. Knowing that I hurt her with my hands, my fists, my body. Had I not just vowed a few hours ago to do whatever it took to keep her safe?

Slowly unlocking the door and turning the knob, I'm barely able to take a step out of the bathroom before I see her curled up on the floor in front of the door. She must've been against it before drifting off to sleep, waiting for me to come out. _Or protecting me so no one would come in, including herself_. Looking down at her sleeping form, there's no doubt she'll be sore when she wakes up from the hard floor; no blanket or pillow to provide even the slightest bit of comfort. In doing my quick assessment, I'm slightly relieved to see no visible marks – bruising, blood, or otherwise. She's shivering, or trembling, I can't tell. What I can tell is that she was crying. _Is_ crying.

Fuck, if I didn't feel bad before, I certainly feel worse now.

With a heavy sigh, my limbs snapping into motion on their own accord, I bend down and scoop her up into my arms. I don't know where I find the strength to do so, but seeing her like this reignites something in me and I can't just let her lay like this cold and crumpled on the floor as if she were merely discarded. _Dead. _She immediately jolts awake, but keeps a vigilant hold of her hands as she timidly looks up. Those deep blue pools stare blankly back at me and it's utterly terrifying to see her like this.

_She's afraid of me, _and I can't blame her.

I kiss her on her temple to let her know that I'm okay, praying _we're_ okay, but I can't yet find my voice to speak. This has become such a colossal mess I don't even know where to begin to make things right. I'm such a fucking screw up, I hate myself.

Gently placing her on the bed I pull up the duvet covers and tuck her in securely. Taking a selfish moment to memorize her beautiful features, I take in her warm face gazing back at me. And because I can't stop myself, I press my lips gently to hers with the lightest of touches, breathing her in and beckoning the courage I need to speak.

"Do you want to leave?" She asks when she realizes I'm not climbing back into bed with her. She remains guarded, but I see the life slowly return back to her eyes.

"I thought about it." I tell her hoarsely. "But I'm afraid of what it'll mean for us if I leave." I finish softly.

Her eyes are red and bloodshot, her face equally as splotchy. But through it all I see my beautiful girl, tired and scared, but there.

"Would you like me leave?" I ask.

She quickly shakes her head 'no.' "It was my fault." She weeps.

"Stop. Don't ever say that."

"Yes it was. It was mine." She snivels, those big blue eyes apologetic as she grips onto the tops of the blanket reminding herself not to reach out to me.

"Stop it. It wasn't your fault. It just… happened. It's nobody's fault."

She shakes her head stubbornly.

"Ana, look at me." Tipping her chin upwards, her eyes remain pensive as she waits for what I have to say. Having thought about it while in the bathroom, I realize that I _do_ need to talk to her. I can't keep this kind of shit from her, not when it's something this big. And not when I've come to realize how much she means to me, and the risk of losing her _again_ terrifies me more than the risk of bearing my dark past to her. Perhaps if she had known we both could've taken that extra step to make sure my no-touch zones were kept safe. There was no way for her to know the extent of what touching those areas would do to me seeing as even I didn't know. Tracing the soft lines of her face with my finger, I steal one more tender kiss.

With a heavy sigh, I start. "I should've been more honest with you. The truth is that there is a lot of dark history in my past that I didn't want you to know about. It's not that I wanted to hide it from you, but… I just wanted to protect you I guess. My past is not something I'll ever be okay or proud to discuss because it haunts me every single day. It torments me in ways unimaginable – those nightmares or waking up like that for example. But tonight… it's never happened like that before and that's because I've never been touched there since I was really young. There's a reason why I don't allow anyone to touch my chest or back, and I've been that way since I was adopted."

I watch as those blue eyes shut me off, her gaze diverted elsewhere guilty and unable to look at me any longer.

"I'm not blaming you, please believe me." I implore, brushing a few stray hairs away from her face and tilting it back towards me. "I just want to explain to you what happened, you must be so scared right now."

"I'm not scared for myself Christian. It's you I'm scared for."

Sadly, and desperately needing her comfort, I nuzzle my face against hers drawing in her familiar scent. "If you're up for it, I'd like to talk to you. Tell you why… why I have these nightmares."

She nods her head timidly, and I steel myself for what is sure to be my most challenging conversation yet.

_Breathe, just breathe._

* * *

**A/N:** Thank you for all the reviews/favorites/follows! They're greatly appreciated! Come find me on Facebook, Pinterest and Tumblr :)


	22. Mountains

**A/N: **This chapter may be upsetting for some. Mildly graphic, mentions of abuse.

* * *

**CHAPTER 22 – MOUNTAINS**

_You've got the words to change a nation_  
_But you're biting your tongue_  
_You've spent a life time stuck in silence_  
_Afraid you'll say something wrong_  
_If no one ever hears it how we gonna learn your song?_

_You've got a heart as loud as lions_  
_So why let your voice be tamed?_  
_Maybe we're a little different_  
_There's no need to be ashamed_  
_You've got the light to fight the shadows_  
_So stop hiding it away_  
_Come on, come on_

_-Read All About It (Pt. III) (Emeli Sandé)-_

* * *

**(APOV)**

Looking up at this man, this man who, unequivocally has come to mean so much to me, I can't deny the pang of trepidation I feel. Having gone through my own shameful circumstances, catch me at just the right moment and anything can be triggering to detonate me. I try to pride myself on the fact that I was able to overcome my past, willing myself to believe that I'm much stronger despite being torn down, beat down, and ripped apart ruthlessly. But moments like this, rare when I open myself up and allow a glimmer of vulnerability to show, I feel my breath catch in my throat praying that I'm making the right decision. Allowing Christian to know even just a glimpse into my secret world renders me paralyzed; I can't even begin to imagine how he would react when he learns about LA. Husband #3 in a sick way was mild compared to everything else I've been through, yet I could see how thoroughly it had bothered him. If he were to know how much worse things have been in my life… would he change his mind about me?

Seeing Christian's torment, _because of me,_ leaves me hideously breathless. And if I'm being really honest, I see echoes of myself in that torment, paining me to know we share kindred maladies that leave us this way.

Disturbed.

Afflicted.

Plagued and haunted by demons of our past that leaves us frantically spinning out of control.

He's asking me if he can explain himself, talk about these nightmares he has. Having my own nightmares I know how terrible they can be – much on par with his. However, these aren't the nightmares regular people have when you fall off a building but wake up just before you die. Or you're being chased by a serial killer because you were watching scary TV before falling asleep. No, these are true nightmares, hellish cogitations, reflections of your deepest psyche of something you managed to just barely live through. When I'm being chased in my nightmares, kicked and beaten and screamed at, they're not imaginings my mind has conjured up to persecute me with. They're _memories,_ vivid flashbacks on replay for my torture and my torture alone.

_Our torture._

I hadn't wanted Christian to ask about the scar, but as soon as I started the words tumbled out of me and the whole sordid story of how I got it in the first place was laid out in front of us. I trusted him to keep my secret because I knew he had secrets of his own. What I hadn't counted on was how I would feel afterwards – crippled at having to revive old memories I'd rather leave hidden, buried and forgotten. With neither Kate nor my dad around to help me had I fallen into that familiar tailspin, I needed to keep it together, unable to bear putting that responsibility onto Christian. He has his own demons to work through without having to remedy mine.

Knowing that it was because I had fallen asleep on his chest, and at some point my hands and made contact that that's the reason we're here now – two broken hearts and two people terrified of each other, makes my stomach turn uncomfortably. Will we ever just be a normal couple without these explosions of emotions threatening to tear us apart?

I know he would never hurt me of that I'm certain, but after tonight's volatile awakenings I'm afraid of how violent his reaction was to me touching him. I'm afraid he'll resent me, condemn me for bringing this nightmare to life and we won't be able to get past it. I always thought no one could have as gruesome nightmares as the ones that used to keep me awake night after night, but now I realize that's just not true. His are… so violent and maniacal, something even my own darkness can't compete with. I feel the bile rise and burn in my throat as my mind invokes dreadful images of what could possibly cause these reactions in him, but I never would have been prepared for what really happened.

* * *

Unable to shake the dreaded mood we're both feeling, he pulls me to the floor with a few pillows and the duvet off the bed. I don't ask why; I just follow, taking his lead as we set up camp on the floor.

Christian quickly steps out of the room leaving me to wonder what on earth he's up to. He returns several minutes later, a half bottle of amber liquor and two glasses in hand. Cocooning ourselves in the blanket, I'm mindful to keep my distance despite his want to pull me closer, clutching my hand in his. Our clasp trembles, but I can't tell who it is that's trembling – me or him. I don't know how to behave around him, what I can and cannot do as he pours one glass, looks over to me as I shake my head, before setting the bottle back down.

Staring straight ahead, I hope to get a read of him through my periphery. I wait patiently for him to muster up the strength to find his voice, for him to be ready to talk. Regardless of what he does or doesn't say, I can't quell the panic simmering in the pit of my stomach.

"I don't really know where to start. I guess... I guess it all started with my birth mother, Ella." He cringes at the sound of her name, an uncomfortable look passing across his face. "I was born into such an insufferable place, poverty at its worst." He growls angrily. "She was a shitty person, a shitty mother. She was unfit to be a mom, to be responsible for another life – young, naive, strung out. She sold her body for alcohol, money and drugs that she could snort or inject. She was a pathetic excuse." He says gruffly.

_Oh my poor Christian. _Dismally, I just know that's not the worst of it. He plays with my limp hand, but I'm too afraid to move unless he moves it. Bringing it up to his lips he kisses my fingertips reverently seeking solace from _me_. I'm beyond confused as to whether or not my touch can help him so I remain still; allowing him to decide what he's comfortable with.

"It only got worse from there. If you want me to stop, please say something now." I shake my head, and I don't miss the brief look of disappointment when he realizes I want him to continue. He sighs, eyes downcast. "I don't remember much, at least nothing good, instead all I seem to remember is always being hungry and cold. She never cooked, never gave me a bath, and I slept on the floor in a dark room with no windows. I didn't know if it was day or night, often being locked in that room for hours, sometimes even days." He chokes out. "We lived in a tiny apartment in downtown Detroit, the rough part where I was met by more drug dealers and hookers than anyone else. There were no parks, no kids to play with, police sirens and people yelling all the through the night. It was hell."

"That sounds horrible." I whisper in dismay.

"That was hardly the worst of it." He grumbles darkly. "Ana, you can't even begin to imagine how horrible it got. She would do whatever it took to get her next fix, and she didn't care if I was taken care of or not."

He's shaking with anger, his face having long fallen and the saddest expression that I've ever seen. "She didn't love me. She didn't care about me. She used me as leverage in her dealings with her pimp, letting them use me as their drug mule. I would carry their drugs for them – who would think a little boy was holding grams of coke or rocks of meth strapped to his chest or in his diaper while this strange man walked me around the city. And if anything went wrong it was always my fault. So when she got tired of being their punching bag or whatever, she would let them use me. Our apartment was a revolving door of druggies who would touch me or beat me or do whatever the fuck they wanted with. I was a fucking baby, Ana. What kind of sick fuck does it take to do that to someone's child? To allow that to happen to _your_ child?" He spits acrimoniously.

"The worst was her pimp. He felt entitled or some sick shit like that so his beatings were the worst. He'd kick me with these heavy boots that probably weighed more than I did, throw me around like a toy by my arms or my hair, make me eat food like a dog off the floor on the odd chance I would get fed. I still wore diapers well after Grace found me because I never learnt how to go to the bathroom. I would go days in the same messy diaper, covered in shit on top of the fresh black and blue bruises covering the old yellow ones." He grunts in disgust. "I remember looking down at my body and wondering why I was such a weird color. I've seen the pictures of how I looked when I was eventually taken to the hospital and it was… I was…" He gulps, trying to push down the urge to vomit. "I was this pathetic _thing_ – weighing no more than a few pounds, malnourished, bruised and swollen. Even my hair was falling out either due to not eating or because it had been pulled out when I was being thrown around. My eyes were nearly falling out of my head my face was so hollow, I can't even describe how disgusting I looked. I was nothing but discolored skin and bones."

I can't stop the hot burning tears from falling as he tells me this, a young boy with no one in the world but his mother who couldn't have cared less for him. Unable to contain the gut-wrenching sobs tearing at my insides, I weep in horror. My heart cracks, crumbling into jagged pieces and I feel utterly sick to my stomach. I don't want to hear anymore; I know it'll only get worse and I cannot even begin to fathom _how much_ worse. But I don't stop him. In a way I believe this could be almost cathartic; to be able to purge himself of these evils, abominations he had to endure under the most heartbreaking circumstances.

"The last few months before she died were the worst. That's how I was found. She had been dead for a few days before the neighbors finally called saying they hadn't seen or heard from us in a while. By that point she was so far gone – high beyond recognition that the abuse reached an all new despicable level. The scars on my chest and back..." His voice shakes, dropping to a whisper. "They're cigarette burns. Those fuckers used me as their ashtray; it wasn't enough that I was their drug carrier, their punching bag, something to get themselves of to. They would use my body to put out burning cigarettes, still lit and sizzling and I can still hear the crackle of flames nearing me. It was... I can still..." He gasps for breath, just the thought of what happened remaining as real and vivid today as it was all those years ago when he was just a poor, innocent helpless child. _A baby_. That sick feeling worsens as my stomach clenches painfully.

Those beautiful grey eyes peer up at me from a heavily guarded place. His eyes water, though he refuses to let the tears fall. Unable to identify the myriad of emotions washing over his ashen face, I sit helplessly willing myself to keep my arms in place when all I want to do is hold this poor man in my embrace and never let another person hurt him ever again. He will forever be _mine_ I think to myself as my soul weeps mercilessly for him, what I feel for him knowing no bounds.

"The nightmares, I still can feel and smell the literal burning of my flesh and my pitiful screams and cries for it to stop. But it never stopped; not until I would pass out from the pain or they ran out of cigarettes. That's why your hands can't touch me, Ana. I'm sorry, but you can't. It's too much for me." He's shaking his head despondently, his face colored in shame as if this was his fault. "I'm sorry, I wish you could touch me, I've never wanted to be touched by anyone until I met you, but I just can't bear it. I can't. When I see your hands nearing my chest, I can't not think about being burned." He stutters, his words tripping out of his mouth. "It's why I crave so much power and control in my everyday life; I can't ever chance not feeling like I don't have any control or that there's a risk of being touched. I'm so screwed up Ana, don't you see? Are you sure this is what you want? Am I what you want?"

My fists ball in anger that something so appalling could have happened to him. I'm so unbearably angry I could kill someone. Red hot hatred for those that put their hands on him and hurt him thrum furiously through my veins, igniting an animosity towards those who have wronged him reckoning its way out from the depths of my own darkness.

"Don't you ever apologize for them, do you hear me Christian?" His sad grey eyes look back at me and gone is the confident, self-assured, self-made business tycoon who runs his empire with controlled precision. In his place I see that sad little boy, scared and alone without a soul in this world willing to help him. How lonely a place that must've been, and the worst part is that I can relate to that pain in many ways. Our pains may be different, but we both bear the scars from others who felt it was their right to treat us as if our lives didn't matter. That our lives didn't have any value. As if wishing we were dead would be the ultimate prize in their quest to destroy us for their own amusement.

It takes every last ounce of my strength to not storm out that door and scour the streets until I find the sorry sycophants who did this to him. I want to run, find those who hurt him, and make them suffer the same fates they've dealt Christian and leave them with the harrowing nightmares plaguing him every night. It's been a long time since I've felt this kind of criminal hatred towards seeking rightful vengeance against those who have done people wrong, and more tears fall as I fight myself against having these thoughts. I've worked so hard to push aside my anger, to find a place in my life where I no longer wish evil amongst those who hurt me… but it's moments like these where I feel my restraint snap. I don't _want_ to be a good person, not when people out there continue to live their despicable lives benignly, ignorant of their own callousness.

My heart drops further in my chest, head spinning detrimentally when I realize how selfish I'm being. This is Christian's pain and his moment to find some comfort, and I need to stop thinking about myself. I need to put Christian first.

"I've never told anyone about my birth mother or the pimp before." He murmurs suddenly, his voice muddled unbelieving of his own words. "Flynn knows, but that's it. I know my parents know a great deal about my circumstances before I was found from the police and the emergency department reports, but I've never spoken to them about what I remember. It feels too real now that I've spoken about it." He confides, and I jump when I hear the catch in his voice. It's so raw, so exposed my instincts tell me to hold him and protect him, but the painful reality is that I can't.

"Can I hold you? What can I do to make this go away?" I rasp, body trembling as my tears refuse to let up.

He eyes me tentatively, and my heart withers when he gives the smallest shake of his head.

_No._

* * *

The white-hot flash of rejection washes over me: suffocating and humiliating. I feel my face flame at the familiar sting of dismissal.

_It's not _you_ he doesn't want; he just can't be touched. By anyone. Don't make this about you._

Quivering, I nod my assent, my eyes falling to my lap suitably chastised. The stillness of the night overtakes us, both lost in our own thoughts. Neither of us makes towards speaking, towards comforting each other with the air heavy around us.

Leaning my head against the bed, I close my eyes. The erratic angry thrumming of my heart against my chest makes my head dizzy. How do we fix this? How can we overcome such traumatic truths marring our fragile relationship? Not that his truths make me want him any less; just the opposite. I want him _even more_ if that were possible; his vulnerabilities speaking to me in a way no one could ever speak to me before.

_We're one in the same._

"Maybe later." His voice hesitates as it cuts through the stark silence befallen unto us, but I can't look at him. Simply shrugging my shoulders as acknowledgment, I don't look up. What do you say after hearing something like that? When the only way I know how to comfort someone is through contact, I'm at a loss of what to do. "Tell me what you're thinking." He implores, and I'm startled by the gentle touch of his lips on my cheek. Without warning, fresh tears fall at the simplicity of the timid sweeping of his skin against mine, his way of telling me he still needs me.

Despite everything, I'm still the one he wants.

"There are too many things I'm thinking." I reply timorously. "I'm thinking… that I'm furious this happened to you. That I'm so beyond _pissed_ I can't see straight. And I'm thinking… that I care so much about you it startles me, and I wish I could erase all your bad memories and be the only thing you think about because I would never want to hurt you. _Ever_. I'm so sorry about touching you, I swear it wasn't intentional. I never… I never thought something like this could've happened or that that's what you'd been through. I'm so sick to my stomach with grief, Christian." I stammer shakily, words tumbling out haphazardly on their own. "More than anything I want to move mountains for you and make you whole again so you never have to have another nightmare or to feel the kind of pain you're going through." I finish breathlessly, the harsh sound of my inhalations ringing obnoxiously in the silence.

I don't know what surprises me more – the sudden grip of his hands, firm but gentle as they lift me up and place me tenderly on the bed. Or the fact that, beyond all reason, a glimmer of a smile graces his handsome lips when he hovers above me, carefully holding my wrists in his hand, the other stroking my cheek with the utmost reverence it actually makes me blush.

"I think I'm falling for you." He murmurs, the world coming to a complete stop. His shy eyes gaze upon me – open, vulnerable, and… free. Neither one of us speak after that, no words in existence that would ever be good enough to grace this moment. Instead he studies my face – memorizing each part before placing a gentle kiss over my forehead, my eyes, my nose, my cheeks, and finally my lips.

My entire body trembles under his kiss – slow, sweet, _lovingly._ I ache all over with the unbearable urge to touch him, but we both know how wrong it would be. Not now, but perhaps in time.

"Will you ever let me touch you?" I breathe, barely above a whisper when his lips leave mine. "Will I ever be able to hold you again?"

Pressing his forehead to mine, I feel him swallow slowly, his Adam's apple bobbing tenuously. "I don't know." He answers hoarsely. "I… I want to say yes. One day. But not right now. Touching with your hands is still a hard limit for me."

I nod. "Will you ever forgive me?"

"There's nothing to forgive, Ana. It was an accident. You would never intentionally hurt me like that."

"Never." I repeat with conviction.

We study each other's faces, words unspoken just beneath the surface. We both have so many more questions, so many more things we want to say but the moment just doesn't seem right. So much has already been said and I don't think I can bear hearing anymore.

"Maybe you can hold me after?"

"After what?"

I feel his lips tug upwards, and I try not to giggle at the absurdity of it all. _That_ was the last thing I was thinking about, but now, with his strong hard body pressed against mine, my head spins knowingly.

"You know what." He croons against my lips.

I shake my head.

"How about now?" He grins, pressing his hips against me and, oh god, I feel him everywhere.

"Are you sure?" It feels wrong to want to give in to our most basic desires in this moment after the heaviness of our conversations, but at the same time it almost seems perfect. It's much easier for the both of us to express the strength of our feelings for each other when words fail us the other way. His body belongs to me, and mine to him. He nods his head, a shy smile on his face seeking permission.

I nod back.

"When a girl tells you she wants to move mountains for you…" He trails off thoughtfully. "You better believe I'm going to make the ground shake for her."

* * *

Lying in a tangled heap on the bed, our flushed cheeks glowing in the dimness of the room, I kiss his neck softly reveling in the warmth of his skin. His hum of appreciation rumbles through the both of us, my lips trickling light kisses over his stubble.

The closeness we share, unspoken promises to do whatever it takes to make us work passes between us as we stare lazily back at each other wonderfully sated. I had asked Christian to tie up my hands so we could make love without interruptions, but he had adamantly refused much to my surprise, and perhaps even to his. He trusted me to not touch him now that I knew about the severity of his aversion but I hadn't wanted to chance it.

In the end, he entrusted a huge leap of faith in me to leave my hands free. I came with a trembling flurry of emotions that swept over me making it that much more powerful. Once it was over, I clumsily excused myself under the pretense of needing to use the bathroom where I wept quietly on the floor, overpowered by my head and my heart competing for dominance.

And it was in that moment that I knew I was falling for him too.

After splashing some cold water onto my face, I climbed back into bed lying on my stomach facing him. He could tell from the puffy redness of my eyes what I was really doing in his absence, but mercifully he doesn't ask me about it. Instead, he lays his head next to mine, entwining our limbs binding us together. Uniting us as one.

His warm breath fans over my face, his comforting scent sweeping over me. "Thank you for telling me." I whisper shakily. "I know it must've been so hard for you, but it means everything knowing you trust me."

"I trust you more than anyone." He affirms unequivocally. "Will you tell me more about you? Your mom, one day?"

I feel the tremble of my lip as I give the smallest of nods. "One day." I rasp.

"Good enough for me." He smiles, briefly grazing my lips. "I think we've done enough talking for one day, hmm?"

Where on earth did this man come from? A broken boy risen from the ashes of despair, abuse, and poverty, this man before me does not reflect that same past. Maybe in private during those dreadfully quiet moments, but I cannot help but be awestruck by this beautiful enigma next to me. He's overcome so much in his life, washing away the adversity he's faced to become this powerhouse of success.

I nod in agreement, our night having been trying and emotionally intense. A part of me is relieved though; knowing I can't keep denying my own truths and hiding it from him, I'm thankful for the reprieve nonetheless.

The rest of the night – or early morning – is spent trading soft caresses, wet kisses, and nail-biting strokes of affection. Wrapping ourselves in one another until the aches in our hearts become numb, our limbs turn to jelly as we lie replete in each other's presence.

* * *

**A/N:** Thank you for all the reviews/favorites/follows! They're greatly appreciated! Come find me on Facebook, Pinterest and Tumblr :)


	23. Playing House

**CHAPTER 23 – PLAYING HOUSE**

_I belong with you,  
You belong with me,  
You're my sweetheart._

_-Ho Hey (The Lumineers) -_

* * *

**(CPOV)**

The alarm clock glows neon, the sun coming to a slow crawl determined to make its presence known. It's quiet, though neither of us is asleep. A small part of me was afraid to go back to sleep; the other part was the stunning blue-eyed brunette lying next to me. After finally talking to her, we ended up spending the rest of the night awake – talking, kissing, and making slow, tender love over and over. It was incredible.

Never did I imagine honesty and openness could relieve me in the way that it has now. I always feared speaking those wretched truths would give credence to that sordid part of my history, an acceptance on my part that it had happened. In large, I've continued to live in denial all these years, a part of me always wondering if perhaps I had just made it all up. That instead, some horrible accident took my birth mother away from me, not an illness she refused to get help for, or a lifestyle that inevitably left me orphaned. But now that the words are no longer mine, now that I've spoken them and another life has heard them, I feel oddly at peace with it. Knowing that I don't need to hide this from her and that she won't run away screaming and disgusted with me, because she _stayed,_ even after she had heard it all, leaves me faintly dumbstruck.

With the patience of a saint and her supportive presence not once indicating judgement or any of the plethora of nasty terms I would have thought would cross her mind once she knew, instead of asking me to leave she wanted me to stay. She wanted to hold me, protect me, make me forget it all.

And I did.

The smell of her skin still lingers on mine, the numbness and swollenness of my lips, the faint sound of her breathy cries still audible in my ears left no room for anything else but her. She was all I wanted, all I could think about.

When she began asking about my subs – she had wanted to know about the women before her – in truth I hadn't wanted to even start that conversation. But her gentle reminder that we were finally opening up to each other, and were in a really good spot to make way in our relationship, I gave it some thought. Considering everything she had already heard, it really couldn't get any worse.

Begrudgingly, I caved. I told her about my early days as a Dom and not having much preference other than a willing participant. I hadn't cared for hair color or body type; I was pretty flexible in terms of physical attractiveness, though I did require a great pair of tits and long legs most of the time. I had never been with a blonde other than Elena, but I suspect that was her way of asserting her authority over me and separating herself from the others, my one and only Domme. In some ways Elena had conditioned me against blondes during our time together, and perhaps that's why most of my female employees all look the way they do – miniature Elena's to ensure I pay them no attention, to remain distant enough to not pay them a second glance.

"You must have a preference. Everyone does." She argued.

I shrugged. "I guess if I had to choose, I'd pick brunettes over any other."

"Is that why you like me?" She teased.

"No." I answered firmly. "It was those great pair of tits." I smirk, much to her embarrassment. "After staring at your tits long enough, I was able to look at the rest of you and then I was a goner. Those big blue eyes had me on first glance."

We both laugh before she scolds me for being a pig, reminding me that she had been in a baggy t-shirt. "Just goes to show how even more incredible they are if I could tell through that grotesque WSU shirt you were wearing that night. There was something mesmerizing about them, I was determined to develop x-ray vision right then and there to see those beautiful creatures."

Her bright red cheeks and uncontained laughter fill our morning, followed by other ordinary conversations – the color of her bedroom walls, the time she thought she could eat an entire large pizza in one sitting, camping trips with Kate and Jose. I hadn't liked that last conversation, apparently since their freshman year together the three of them had gone on this weekend camping trip over the summers and just knowing that that fucker was alone with her out in the woods doing god knows what hadn't sat well with me.

She assures me nothing ever happened, and every time they returned from their trips she remained a virgin, her blessed virtue intact. She couldn't stop smirking knowing how angry I was getting, but I couldn't help it. That fucker could've tried it all, but she's quick to remind me that try as he might've, nothing ever happened. It's a small consolation, I guess. Still, I don't like the fucker.

She had simply brushed it off, as she does with all things regarding other men being interested in her, and I decide not to fixate on it. It didn't mean that it was over, but for now, the air no longer stifling or uncomfortable, the last thing I had wanted was to get into an argument that, indeed men are constantly trying to get into her fucking panties. And I cannot for the life of me understand how she doesn't see it. _At all_. It's as if she thinks she's some kind of troll nobody would bother giving a second look, instead of the stunningly beautiful, sexy, alluring young woman that she is. Hell, even if she had been a troll, she would still have every man dropping to their knees for her. She'd be the prettiest troll in all the land.

I never really understood the term 'lazy Sundays' until today. Having been up for hours, the day continues to trudge on leisurely, a whole day dedicated to just us. I'm in no rush to be anywhere, or to be doing anything else that doesn't require Ana in some state of undress, twisted and wrapped around me exploring new ways to make her scream my name. In the past my Sundays were anything but laidback – they were usually a last-hoorah with my sub trying to get as much fucking in before the week started. I much prefer this instead, knowing I can have Ana whenever, wherever.

Looking over at her, snuggled into the bed grinning at me, I shake my head. She's biting that lip and her eyes are dancing merrily with naughty thoughts. I'm just barely able to keep up with her. Before going another round, I'm going to need some sustenance.

Tiredly, though the smile on my face would say otherwise, I walk to the kitchen in my boxers and t-shirt to grab a bottle of water. That girl is the most incredible woman on this planet. The way she calms me, settles all my fears, brings me back to being a human again; fuck she's amazing. This feeling overtaking me is indescribable – knowing she knows everything about me now sets ablaze a new kind of excitement in me. I don't have to worry about her wanting to touch me now that she knows. I don't have to worry about her learning about my subs or any of that other shit because she already knows. Who would have ever thought simply talking to someone would be so redeeming, and I'm curious to see what Flynn will think of this revelation when I see him next. _Talking!_ That's all I needed to be doing all this time I chuckle to myself.

Rummaging through her cupboards I decide to make her a cup of tea and to bring some snacks back to bed. Neither one of us are particularly hungry, and truthfully I just want to get back to bed with her so I hold off on making breakfast.

But just as I think that, her sleepy body groggily stumbles into the kitchen, her hair in perfect disarray, those ridiculous pink cotton pajamas back on.

"I told you to wait in bed." I admonish, pulling her towards me. She smiles, a lopsided eyes-half-closed kind of smile as she shuffles into my arms, her tiny ones draped over my hips. She snuggles into me, having already decided that I'm okay with her holding me as long as I have my shirt on. I'm still a little uneasy having her that close to me after everything, but I was okay with her holding me before, and now, with her in my arms, I'm convinced that this is exactly what I need.

"Mmm, I missed you. And I was hungry." She grouches.

Kissing her forehead, I sigh. If she's hungry, then we'll have to hold off my other plans for a bit longer.

"What would you like for breakfast?" She asks, starting to pull away.

"Uh uh uh." I tut, shaking my head. "What would _you_ like for breakfast?"

She frowns, looking up at me with a silly face. "_You're_ going to make breakfast?"

"Yes." I huff in indignation. She grins, giggling at the mere thought.

"_You're _going to make _me_ breakfast?" She asks again.

"_Yes._ Why is that so funny?"

Her giggles get louder, and I try for hurt, offended, put-off, but the louder her giggles get, the harder it is to keep a straight face. How dare she laugh at me I smirk in resignation.

"Ana!" I chide, squeezing my arms tighter around her shaking body. It's not _that_ far-fetched of a thought is it?

"I'm sorry." She pants, unable to hide her mirth. "I don't know why I think its so funny that you cook. But… you cook? Real food?"

"As opposed to what? Fake food?"

Fuck, she's the only one who could get away with making fun of me this way. And as silly as I feel being on the receiving end of it, I also feel pretty damn lucky to be the one to make her laugh this much. I'll do whatever it takes to hear that lovely sound, the soft sweet tinkle of her laugh making her even more beautiful to me.

"I'll let you know, I just so happen to be an excellent cook." I start, gathering pots and pans and opening her fridge. "Prepare to be amazed."

She shakes her head in disagreement. "Nope. Not possible. You can't cook. It's not fair."

"Not fair?"

"To every other man in the world. You can't be a handsome, charming, sexy, panty-dropping, swoon-worthy, intelligent, powerful and sweet man who cooks. It's just unfair. It's just not _possible." _She shakes her head adorably, akin to a child unwilling to accept the truth. Her lips pout, her eyebrows raised in challenge towards me.

"Panty-dropping?" I smirk.

"Yes. Panty. Dropping." She states affirmatively.

"Mmm, well then. Prepare to drop those panties. Because I'm going to make you one hell of a breakfast, and then I expect to be dutifully rewarded afterwards with said panties dropped. And perhaps I'll throw in a spanking for good measure for teasing me."

Her beaming grin only turns me on more, her eyes alight with excitement.

"Whatever you say, _Sir_."

She parks herself at the breakfast bar across from me, watching as I set out the ingredients on the countertop. I swear I see drool from her pink lips as she watches me cut, chop, slice and dice. Unable to hide my smirk I continue to move about her kitchen with ease, making the most out of the simple ingredients in the fridge.

"Where did you learn how to cook?"

"My mom felt it was important for all of us to know how to cook at least a few meals. We had a housekeeper growing up, Eden, who still works at my parents' house, but my mom and her would always make sure we all helped out and knew at least the basics of cooking. Over the years I've honed my cooking skills and Mia and I do a lot of cooking together."

"You do?" She gawps. Yup, most definitely drooling now.

"Yeah, it's one of the things we do together. I can't stand shopping or talking for hours or that other girly stuff she's into, but cooking is something we share. Mia's an excellent cook and teacher. I don't know why she doesn't do more with it; she's so talented at it. Knowing my issues with food, I guess I just never wanted to be in a position where I would ever go hungry again. I needed to be able to know how to cook for myself so I wouldn't starve. Learning to cook was more survival than a fancy trick to impress girls." I wink to keep the mood lighthearted, grateful that I'm able to talk about something like this with her. It feels strange, yet _normal_.

She smiles, coming around the counter with bright blue eyes never leaving mine. There's something so damn seductive about the way they twinkle, my closet siren making me wilt with her come-hither stare. She stalks me like prey, ready to strike and _eat me_, and I'm more than okay with that. In fact, I would gladly encourage it, so far as to drop to my knees and damn well beg to feel those lush lips wrap around me, her soft warm tongue shyly licking my tip before devouring me, swallowing everything I have to offer her like the dirty little girl I know she really is.

And as if to prove my point, _that she is in fact a_ _dirty girl,_ Master Grey nearly blows his load when she pulls off that tiny top she's wearing and her sweet glorious tits bounce out, nothing but her sun-kissed skin on magnificent display in the daylight. My jaw must hit the floor as she tosses her hair over her shoulder, those eyes provoking me. My mouth gapes open and close like a guppy, eager to catch one of those pert little nipples between my teeth as I trace each swell and curve of her body with my greedy eyes. _One day I will fuck those pretty not-so-little titties, so round and soft around my dick I'm sure I'll weep like a pussy afterwards._

I shake my head sharply; let's make _her_ pussy weep instead.

"Consider me impressed." She purrs, trailing her fingers up my arms before tangling in my hair and pulling me down towards her lips. "_Very _impressed_."_ She mouths before her warm lips seal around mine, her soft tongue sliding into my mouth playfully. _Huh, so cooking also turns her on. Do other men know this? _Groaning, I grip her naked torso close to me, pressing her firmly against my chest. A part of me longs to feel her warm body skin to skin, but now I have to go off of memory. Last night is still too raw for me, and I'm grateful for her understanding as she makes no move to remove my shirt.

Wriggling out of her shorts, she tugs on my boxers so both hit the floor at the same time. In a blissful state of nakedness, well, almost-nakedness, our arms wrap around each other, soft wet lips and tongues in perfect fucking harmony. Tiny little whimpers escape her as I squeeze her tightly to me, uncontained desire for this woman blistering through my pores. I want her all at once, mewling as I lift her up and unceremoniously place her onto the counter, tearing her legs apart so I can fit myself between them.

The gentle tugs of her fingers in my hair, the wet heat of her body pressed against mine, the fact that we're standing in her kitchen about to fuck like rabbits sends my body into a heady frenzy as I grip and glide my hands along her perfectly smooth skin unable to get close enough. She keeps a fixed grip around me, her arms and legs a vice to keep me in place. _Trust me baby, I ain't going anywhere._

"God, you're too perfect." She murmurs dreamily against my lips. "I can't get enough of you."

She places chaste, teasing kisses on my lips, playful and frustrating all at once. I'm so wound up I wind my hand so it tangles in her already-fucked hair, keeping her head still as I hungrily suck on her mouth – licking and stroking and aggressive in my kisses.

"Don't play games, baby. I can't handle it." I growl, desperate to find the Dom in me to put her in her place. Unsurprisingly, I'm so goddamn pussy-whipped my Dom is nowhere to be found, and in his place a horny teenager who won't last more than a few strokes inside that warm wet box of hers. _Urrrghhhh_.

"Christian, _Sir._" She moans, grinding her hips against me in a plea for more. Hearing my name, and so dangerously followed by _Sir,_ I nearly slam her back onto the counter as I yank her hips to the edge and with barely any control, drive into her throbbing sex eager to fill her.

Wild and hurried, we race towards a rapturous finish, manic in our quest to fuck the shit out of each other. Where the fuck _that _came from is beyond me, but as I stare at her slick skin, sweaty and glistening everywhere, I'm pleased to see those wondrous blue eyes nearly feral.

I can't describe the feeling of maleness that comes over me knowing it's because of me she can't seem to control herself – such a stark contrast from who she usually is: shy, demure, composed. The fact that she can completely let herself go in front of me, nothing to hide when we're deep in the throes of pure lust makes me feel pretty damn good about myself. I feel… important. A strange thing because I've always known without a doubt that I'm pretty fucking fantastic when it comes to knowing how to please a woman. But with Ana, it's something so much more; beyond pleasure and indulgence. That spark between us is constantly catching fire, not only physically, but in every other realm and dimension too.

"Mmm, yes. Very impressive." She giggles, breaking me from my musings that this girl is it for me. She's the one.

* * *

"What else can you do other than cook?" She asks after we've both gotten re-dressed, her safely seated on the opposite side of the counter so I can finish cooking our breakfast.

"I can play piano, speak French, fly a helicopter." I shrug, trying to think of hobbies I like to do. "I like sailing, running, racing cars-"

I'm once again halted as she leans over the counter nearly throwing herself over it as her lips crush down on mine, tugging on the front of my shirt for stability.

_Fuuuck._

"Stop. I can't take anymore." She growls, and somewhere in the midst of her desperate kiss she had managed to climb onto the counter on all fours, her perky ass prominently on display. "You're too much. You're too perfect. There's nothing you can't do." Her lips continue to seek out mine hungry for more kisses. I grin, kissing her back. "You've ruined me for all other men, you know that right? How am I supposed to be with anyone else after you? Who can possibly know how to fly helicopters and race cars while speaking French?" She laments, and I can't keep the deep chuckle from breaking out of my chest.

Just as well; she's ruined me for all other women. We're a perfect match.

I tell her to behave so I can finish making breakfast, and one adorable pout later she tries once more to remain seated in her chair, clothes on. She watches me with glossy eyes, and I feel like wanting to puff my chest out just a bit in pride. I love having her attention; knowing that she's only thinking about me.

* * *

Breakfast was an orgasmic ordeal. Ana couldn't stop from moaning after each bite; I couldn't stop but stare intently as I watched food disappear into her mouth, her tongue and lips wrapping around her fork. I was ready to combust by the end of it, and her feisty smirk told me she was thinking the same thing.

When she offers to clean up, I'm quickly halted from my dirty musings. "But Christian, you made breakfast. The least I can do is clean up." She goes to stand up again but I pull her back down. She huffs in frustration.

"I think we can make this even another way." I grin, picking her up and placing her down on the table. She eyes me warily though her chest quickly rises and falls, her skin already flushing. "Some morning dessert, I think."

She blushes as I pull her shorts off once more, spreading her legs leaving her in nothing else but her tank top and tiny panties. Running my hands up and down her silky thighs I trail wet kisses up and down the left, then the right. Goosebumps form on her skin, those bright eyes even brighter.

Leaning back onto her hands, she gives me a wicked look before slowly spreading her legs for me, a groan of approval rumbling from my throat by her initiative. The sight of her open to me, ready to be devoured sends a jolt of pleasure right down to my toes.

"Me for dessert?" She asks innocently, but there's nothing innocent about this position she's in – pussy wet and glistening just for me.

I growl ravenously, flicking my finger over the damp lace covering her. Her body flinches before I push her panties to the side, continuing to slide my finger up and down her slit. Fuck, she's wet; warm, slippery, and more than ready. Bending her knees and planting each foot firmly onto the edge of the table, I take a moment to appreciate the vision before me as her cheeks redden with each passing second.

Slowly. I graze my tongue down one side, then the other, avoiding the bundle of nerves twitching for my attention. Placing hot open-mouthed kisses on her flesh, I revel in her sweet taste, her skin soft and smooth against my lips. My dick jerks in jealously as I continue to kiss her lazily, her cute little toes curling beneath me. Fuck, what I wouldn't do for this girl. Caught in the moment, losing track and focus of everything around me except for her, my hand wanders on the table and bumps a nearby plate. The clatter makes her jump, but a wicked idea pops into my head. O_h fuck yes._ Dipping my finger into the left over syrup from breakfast, I trace a sticky line over her already sweet pussy. She gasps in surprise, her hips lurching at the sticky sensation being drizzled on her before I greedily wrap my mouth around her once more, licking up the tantalizing combination of syrup and Ana. It does little to ease her shock, her eyes wide and self-conscious.

_Fuck, I want to cover her entire body in syrup and lick it off one stroke at a time._

"Mmmm." I moan, her body shuddering and writhing on top of her dining room table as I hungrily eat her most prized possession, a starved man unwilling to stop now that I've had a taste. I love watching her come apart completely, her body so responsive to every touch.

As the pressure inside of her begins to build, she sits up on her elbows, eyelids heavy as she gazes down at me in heat squeezing her legs tightly around my shoulders. Her cheeks flush, whimpering my name as her eyes plead with me. Grunting in frustration my own body desperate for some attention, I push her top upwards exposing those perfectly round tits, my other hand going to stroke my angry dick.

"Touch yourself." I order, but she shakes her head shyly. Glaring back, I pull away immediately.

"Christian." She whines.

I raise my eyebrow.

Squaring her shoulders before sitting up, her small hands shakily reaching up to grip her heavy breasts. She sighs when her fingers come into contact with her already sensitive nipples, and it pleases me enough to reunite my mouth happily with her pink, throbbing cherry. Watching her, tasting her, smelling her arousal turns us both on as she works her breasts: stroking, kneading, tugging on her pert nipples. I watch in admiration, my lips and tongue working harder to bring her release.

"_Oh Christian__!_" She purrs, rocking her hips against my face as the tension builds. My other hand works feverishly, stroking my dick harshly to sync our releases together. Her breaths come out in short, shallow pants, her tits bouncing as her hips move more frantically losing control as I feel her tightening around me.

My hand feels sticky and sweaty as I continue to pump my dick, dividing my concentration on my own pleasure and hers. Burying my face deeper, I feel my own breath begin to catch in my throat as I get closer.

"Now, Ana." I growl, my low voice sending a deep vibration throughout her entire body. She yelps in surprise before letting out a guttural sound as her muscles contract and begin to give way to her sweet release. With more pressure from my lips I suck harshly, nipping at her clit with my teeth impatient to watch her body explode before me.

Her garbled response sends her over as I watch her tightly pinch her nipples finally sending her over the edge. A raspy grunt of approval escapes me as I squeeze my dick harder, gripping it until I feel spurts of my own release: warm and creamy on my hands and thigh. Her pussy rocks against my face as I finish her off, lapping up every last drop of her nectar; her juices smeared across my face in a heady mess.

Limply, her body crumbles onto the table; legs falling open and off of my shoulders in a slump. I feel as though I've just ran a marathon, panting for breath. Resting my head on her stomach, I feel her warm flushed skin against mine and I can still feel her throbbing beneath me, a lazy grin creeping against my lips. _Damn, that was incredible_.

She mumbles out a tired protest but quickly sighs in approval when the hot water cascades down over us once I finally managed to carry her back to the bedroom. Holding her up in my arms as I wash her, she melts into my body tenderly kissing my lips. Slowly, sensually and unhurried. My spent dick comes back to life, eagerly searching for her warmth.

And once more we find ourselves tangled up in arms and legs, our bodies grinding hungrily against one another separated only by my soaking shirt, wet and slippery. Her _Yes, Christian _and _Oh, Christian_ makes my hips surge harder, driving deep into her as she begs for more. She is insatiable; ardent in her search for that lovely O, and I'm more than willing to give her just that. As many times as she needs it.

It's only once the water runs cold before we've deemed ourselves clean after getting much dirtier than we were going in. Getting dressed once more in a pair of sweats and a fresh t-shirt, I coax her to get some rest as she climbs into bed with only a pair of underwear on. Despite her protests, the moment her head hits the pillows, _any_ pillows for that matter, she's out. I can't hide my chuckle as I close the door behind me.

Going to the kitchen to clean up from our breakfast and extra activities, I grin like a lunatic as I walk around picking up our clothes – off the kitchen floor, the counter, the chair at the table, and somehow the couch.

I'm just putting away the last of the pots and wiping down the counters when a brisk knock sounds on the door. Who the hell would be at her door at this hour on a Sunday? Aren't Sundays meant for fucking and sleeping in late? At least that's what I've gathered from regular people.

Walking to the door to answer it, I'm greeted by one Raymond Steele who looks back at me with surprise and, dare I say, anger.

_Oh shit._

* * *

"Christian." He says tersely, disapproval plainly painted across his face. Ray's a smart man, and once having been my age, there's no doubt he knows why I'm here at his daughter's apartment this early in the morning dressed in pajamas. He presses his lips tightly together, eyes narrowed.

"Mr. Steele, Ray." I mumble, scratching nervously the back of my neck. _Gees, who the fuck am I?_ "Please, come in. Ana's still sleeping, I can go wake her if you'd like-"

He shakes his head as he steps inside the apartment and I realize how that must've sounded. _Shit, shit, shit._ Taking a conspicuous glance around the apartment, not even bothering to hide the fact that he's searching for some sort of evidence to what he's assuming we've done, _did_, he goes to take a seat on the couch once he's found nothing of substance. At least I hope it's nothing.

"If Ana's still sleeping, how'd you get into her apartment?" He asks derisively, a taunting eyebrow raised.

"Uh…"

The guy doesn't give me a break, unblinking as he stares back at me, arms across his chest. He looks ridiculous sitting on that tiny couch surrounded by fluffy pillows and a fluffy carpet; a giant in miniature furniture. Regardless of the mirth I find in the stark contrast, I'm painfully aware that Ana's dad is ex-army and could have me killed for fornicating with his daughter. Where the fuck is Taylor when you need him?

"Well? Where is she? Go get her." He says with a wave of his hand impassively. My feet stutter like a baby goat as I awkwardly turn around tucking my goddamn tail between my legs, though I remain alert for any covert attacks. Jesus, I may need Ana for protection. Hurriedly, I take the last few shaky strides to her room before gently shaking her awake.

"What the-" She groans swatting my hand away. "What are you doing? Go away."

"Ana, wake up."

"Christian, I'm tired. I'm not ready to go again." She grumbles, burying her head under the pillows. If I wasn't so terrified her dad was about to kill me, I'd give her cute little ass that's poking out of the sheets a nice spanking.

"Ana your dad's here."

This gets her attention.

She bolts up, the pillow over her head shooting across the room. Her unruly hair is everywhere as she mindlessly tries to brush it back out of her face, blowing it away.

"_What?_" She gapes, those big blue eyes even bigger. "Is he okay?"

"Yes, but I won't be if you don't get out there now."

"What do you mean?"

"It's pretty clear I spent the night here. Daddy Dearest wants my balls. Get out there, now." I babble, pulling the sheets away and urging her to get moving. "Now, please. I like my balls very much, and if I'm not mistaken so do you."

"Oh crap! Crap, crap, _crap_!" She flusters, looking around for some clothes. I toss her a shirt that's much too large for her and some baggy sweats – why on earth she owns such unflattering clothes is beyond me – before she stumbles out of the door.

Scrambling to find my phone, I quickly text Taylor to be on stand-by. I may need a get-away car and a bodyguard if I'm to leave this place alive.

_Fuck._

* * *

**(APOV)**

My knees are shaking as I make the short walk towards the living room, and the second I turn the corner I see Ray's eyes staring at the hallway I've just come through.

"Daddy!" I smile brightly, biting my lip to keep from crying I'm so nervous. And embarrassed. Somebody save me.

"Anastasia."

_Oh crap._

"What a wonderful surprise! I've missed you!" I gush, wrapping my arms around him giving him a tight hug. I need to break out all the tried-and-true Daddy's Little Girl tricks if I'm going to salvage myself and my boyfriend from this man. His nostrils are already flaring.

"Hmph." Is all he gives me.

"What brings you to Seattle? Is everything okay back home?" I ask concerned, genuinely so as I pull back slightly.

He just nods.

"Come to visit your favorite daughter then. I'm honored." I grin widely, wriggling my eyebrows playfully. He doesn't take the bait. _Come on, Ray._

"Care to explain why there's a man answering your door on a Sunday morning?"

Immediately my face reddens.

"I got a new doorman?"

Ray is not impressed.

"Anastasia…" He warns again.

"A new roommate?"

"What?!"

"I was just kidding!" I wince, much to both our horrors at how that must've sounded. Not the best joke to be making at this time.

"The truth young lady, now."

"_Daddy_." I whine. What am I supposed to say? That that man just had _me_ for breakfast?

He stares at me as I peel myself off of him and sit on the adjacent couch. I smile, teeth showing and everything as I raise my eyebrows waiting for him to say something. Surely whatever he has to say would be less detrimental than me putting my foot in my mouth repeatedly.

"I do not want strange men spending the night in my daughter's apartment. Where's Kate?"

"…in her room?" I try. Nothing. I relent. "She's away for the weekend. At her parents."

"Hmm. Perhaps you should be doing the same."

"Why don't you tell me what you're doing here. You must've left really early to get here, you know I don't like you driving when it's dark." I scold hoping to deflect and move this conversation in my direction.

"If you woke up at a normal time, you would know the sun rises before six these days so my drive was in daylight." He deadpans.

"Still." I huff. "You must've been tired. And that's not safe. Now, the reason for your impromptu visit, Raymond."

Finally, I see a crack of a smile on his lips. Ah yes, Ana – 1. Anastasia – 0.

"Well, it appears as though my darling daughter has managed to get her first big girl job, and since she didn't have time to come visit her old man this weekend I figured I would come down and wish her good luck."

My jaw drops. How sweet is this man? I throw myself back onto his couch, hugging him tightly to me ruffling his hair.

"Ana, stop." He chuckles trying to wriggle out of my grasp. Yielding, I release him and sit back on one of the cushions, grinning from ear to ear.

"You came _all_ this way to wish me luck for tomorrow? A phone call would have sufficed."

"Of course. I never miss my baby's milestones."

"I'm not a baby." I snicker.

"You'll always be my baby." He says gently, grasping my hand and squeezing. _There's my Ray_.

Whispering sincerely, "I love you daddy, you know that? Thank you for coming out, this is the best surprise and means so much to me."

"I was hoping we could spend the day together, get you ready for tomorrow. Walk around Seattle a bit and then go for dinner? But I see you have other plans…" That disapproving tone has returned.

"Just give me a couple minutes and then I'm all yours."

I quickly get up and run to my room, no doubt where Christian's been hiding all this time. Walking through the door, I try to stifle my giggle as I see him pacing, his hands running through his hair. He's a nervous wreck, and I find this thought oddly amusing. Christian Grey – _nervous. _

* * *

(**CPOV**)

"Is he going to kill me? Am I dead?"

She shakes her head. "No, but he is hi-jacking me for the day." She pouts. And as much as I like Ray, I was pretty damn set on spending the day with Ana.

"Oh." I sigh with disappointment.

"Ray's always had this thing about being there for me for big things – graduations, first day of school."

"Oh, how awful." I mock.

"Don't be mean, I'm just saying. I had no idea he'd come all this way just to wish me luck for tomorrow. Would it be so bad if I took him up on his offer for a daddy-daughter day?"

"Of course not. You go and enjoy being with your dad, and perhaps make me look good? I get the distinct impression I'm his least favorite person right about now."

"And why would you say that?" She teases, tugging on my waistband pulling me closer.

"Because I do very naughty things to his precious little girl."

I grin at how adorable she is, swimming in that large t-shirt, her hair still disorderly. She rewards me with her mega-watt smile, innocent and mischievous all at once.

"I like being naughty." She purrs, much to my disdain. As sexy as those words are, I don't think I could get the poor guy up even if I wanted to. I imagine Ray on the other side of the door listening in, polishing off a gun readying himself for a takedown.

"Keep it in your pants, Ana." I scold mildly, her smile only growing.

"My my, how the tables have turned." She tuts. "Christian Grey. _A softy."_

She's barely finished pronouncing the 't' when I grasp her firmly against my body, nothing but solid muscle. I grind my semi-hard, albeit confused, erection against her, her body instinctively yielding to me.

"Baby we both know there's nothing soft about Christian Grey." I growl, much to her doe-eyed expression. "I'm trying to be a gentleman here, give me a little credit." I pout.

"You're an absolute gentleman. My apologies." She concedes, feigning her contriteness. "Now if you don't mind, please remove your penis from my stomach."

And with that, we both double over in laughter as I grind my hips rudely against her, her laughter only growing until she's begging me to stop.

"Soft." I scoff, shaking my head. "_Soft_."

* * *

Once again Ray has me cock-blocked. I go from king of the fucking castle, to feeling like a baby farm animal.

Coming back to Escala without Ana was a huge letdown. I'm just grateful that Ray let me leave that apartment unscathed; I wasn't exaggerating when I told Ana I had reason to be afraid of him.

After Ana had gotten dressed, of course she looked impeccable in something as simple as a pair of tights, an oversized white tank top, and a cropped pale pink leather jacket with her hair swept off to the side, I dread not being able to spend the day with her.

Ray had stood to his full height, a good two inches taller than me, the moment I came into the room. _Fuck, this man scares me._ Placing a protective arm around Ana, he kissed the side of her head, eyes unrelenting as they kept a vigilant hold of me.

"So, um, I guess I'll call you tonight?" Ana mumbles shyly, her eyes wide though she's fighting the urge to laugh. She finds it hysterical how afraid I am of Ray; easy for her, he's her little princess. I stand awkwardly to the side knowing I won't be allowed to give her a goodbye kiss, and feel even more absurd. I'm a grown man for fuck's sake, yet here I am about to piss my pants in front of my girlfriend's father. Jesus, my balls have left the room.

"Yeah, whenever you get home." I mumble back, toeing the floor. "I hope you guys have a good day, the weather seems nice enough for a walk around Seattle."

"It would take more than a day to walk around the whole of Seattle." Her dad quips dryly. She elbows him back, giving him a warning look. He merely shrugs, kissing the side of her head once more.

"Right." What else am I supposed to say? "Well, I guess I better get going."

"You'd be guessing correctly."

"Enough, daddy." Ana hisses, though the amused twitch of her lips doesn't go unnoticed. She's loving every minute of my discomfort. _Miss Steele, there's a spanking in your future_.

Nodding my head, keeping a tight lip of saying anything else that can come back to bite me in the ass, I gather my jacket and head towards the exit. Mercifully Ana slips out of her dad's grip long enough to see me to the door and to give me a chaste kiss.

"Call me before you go to bed." I sigh as her lips leave mine. "Promise?"

She nods.

"Okay, have fun."

She nods once more, and resignedly I walk down the long hallway. This sucks.

* * *

I decide to take up Taylor's offer to go for a run after sulking most of the afternoon. In the back of my mind I'm thinking of ways to 'accidentally' bump into Ana and her dad, just because I miss her already.

Now that I've had enough time to grow back my balls and not shrivel up as if an ice bucket had been dumped on my junk, I pound the sidewalk as we run mile for mile, Taylor barely able to keep up which is unlike him. I'm too ramped up to bother being a good running partner knowing I won't get to see Ana at all tonight if her dad stays. Add to that she'll be starting her new job tomorrow, and I feel the need to run even faster to clear my head.

Maybe I can convince her again to work for me. I can offer her any position she wants – hell she could have mine for all I care. Imagine how great it would be to see her every day. The thought puts a smile on my face at the idea, though I'm certain she'll refuse. Even if we did have a position that interested her, she'd decline just because she could. I grin at the thought.

Thinking back to the party, Ana was her shy, charming self and immediately I knew Elliot and Mia were as besotted with her as I was the minute I met her. And a huge part of me is over the moon knowing they all got along well. She gives as good as she takes, and she had the both of them wrapped around her finger by the end of the night. Already they're inviting her to Sunday dinners and to everything else, Mia even cancelling her standing lunch date on Wednesdays with me to meet with Ana instead. _Gee thanks, Mia_.

Despite how young and carefree she was yesterday, I hadn't quite realized just how different our lives are. Though the age group may have been more of what Ana is used to, the status of the crowd wasn't. I could see she was uncomfortable at times, but I was quick to dispel those errant thoughts. There is no reason for her to feel any type of inferiority just because she didn't grow up white collar. Money means nothing.

_So says the billionaire._

I couldn't believe how blatantly envious most of Mia's so-called friends were at the party. Mia hadn't been exaggerating when she said they wouldn't take a liking to Ana – those girls were nothing but nasty glares and catty gossip. Of course Ana would take it in stride; and if I didn't know any better, I would also assume she hadn't noticed just how much of it was really going on. Mia did a great job of making sure she felt included, but I was privy to the spitefulness behind their backs. I try not to let it bother me as I know it's over and done with, but the idea of such negativity towards Ana concerns me. I know the public will get wind of our relationship sooner or later, and they're going to be just as bad, if not worse. The media will be relentless to learn about her – _Christian Grey's mystery girl – _and I shudder at the thought because I have always been able to keep my personal life elusive from such prying eyes. Worst of all is the threat this places on Ana's safety – she'll become a target for paparazzi, jealous 'fans', scorned business partners; and they'll undoubtedly hound her for photos or comments invading her privacy. I'm not sure how she'll take all the added attention one her anonymity is no longer intact; I'm sure she wouldn't like it, but as she is with everything else, I'm confident she'll be able to take whatever is thrown at her. She's such a strong woman, of that I'm certain.

I'm grateful Mia had the good sense to have everyone at the party sign a standard NDA. It's common for these types of social events and personal parties amongst the socialites as most have reputations to uphold when they're not slinging back beers and acting like idiots all weekend. Most would not appreciate seeing their faces splashed across the gossip circuit Monday morning when most have reputations and family names to uphold. I can only hope that Mia's friends honor those NDAs and that none of them sell-out for both Mia's sake and ours.

As soon as that thought pops into my head, I hear the ping of my phone as it briefly pauses the music blaring through my headphones.

**_*Don't mess this up dear brother! She's a keeper! – Mimi*_**

Attached to the text is a picture, and immediately I can't stop the giant smile on my face as I come to a slow jog lest I run myself off the sidewalk and into a tree. It's a picture of Ana and I – our first picture together as a couple. _Amazing._

**_*Mimi, this picture is wonderful. Thank you. I'll try my damnest not to screw this up. – Cee Cee*_**

In the picture we had just come out of the water and I had scooped up Ana from behind, her high-pitched squeals and giggles ringing beautifully all around me. She was begging me to put her down, but I only squeezed tighter causing her smile to grow as her laughs got louder. The picture was the perfect shot – Ana's cheeks pink from the sun and laughing so much, her eyes closed and the goofiest smile on my face.

I feel a twinge of longing as I look at this picture, immediately calling Mia to see if she has anymore. I've never had pictures with anyone before; none like this at least, and the thrum of nervous excitement pumps through me as Mia says she'll send me a file when she fully wakes up. It's almost four o'clock in the afternoon, but I don't mention that to her.

After ensuring Mia drinks lots of water to clear the alcohol from her system before ending the call, I look over to a nearby bench where Taylor is still trying to catch his breath. He looks over at me with a drained look, pleading with me to end our run. Lucky for him, my mood has been infinitely lifted as I save the picture to my phone as my new wallpaper and tell the poor bastard we can walk home.

More pressing matters have now come up, and I'm eager to get home to look at these pictures. _Maybe I can have them printed and framed_, I muse happily to myself, trotting ahead of Taylor who continues to wheeze behind me.

* * *

**A/N:** Thank you for all the reviews/favorites/follows! They're greatly appreciated! Come find me on Facebook, Pinterest and Tumblr :)


End file.
